East Coast Angels
by vorr de ville
Summary: Summoned to New York on a routine case, a chance encounter leads the Angels into something they just can't walk away from.
1. Chapter 1

_**This story started off life 16 years ago. Back then there was just one scene. It was an idea that was forgotten about until I became stuck a few months back with another CA story I was trying to write. Now this thing has taken on a life of its own! I look forward to hearing what you think of it.**_

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**_The young woman pulled down on the fraying brim of her baseball cap, trying to shield her eyes from the crowds of people making their way along 42nd Street. Keeping her head low, she avoided eye contact with the office workers who were hurrying on their way back to work.

All around her was the normal hustle and bustle of the lunchtime crowd. Street vendors with their carts of hotdogs and pretzels lurked on almost every corner, trying to push their wares onto the people streaming out of the dingy, rundown strip joints and theatres that lined both sides of the street. This district of New York wasn't one that she was fond of, but she had business here today, and had no option but to run the gauntlet of humanity that crowded onto the sidewalks.

She winced as another elbow jammed into her side, and a low curse was aimed in her direction. She ignored the man, and weaved her way as best she could through the press of people. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself. She had a drop to make, and then she could start to think about making her way back to the meagre comforts of her apartment.

She shivered beneath the thin material of her coat, and wished that she could afford something warmer. The January weather was unforgiving. A cold snap had hit the city, and there was the threat of snow before the week was out. She jammed her hands deep into her pockets in an effort to keep them warm.

"Hey!" there was a shout from behind. She fought against the urge to turn her head to see who it was. She tipped her head forward again and tried to pick up the pace. There were only a few more blocks to the nearest subway station, and if she could make it there without being spotted, she was fairly certain that she would be safe.

She heard the sound of the booted feet too late to react. Moments later, a heavy gloved hand clamped down hard on her shoulder and she struggled to shake it loose. Another hand grabbed her left arm, and she felt herself being pulled towards a narrow alleyway that ran down the side of one of the movie theatres. She dug her heels into the uneven pavement as best as she could, but another pair of hands grabbed at her right arm, and she was bodily dragged off of the street and down the narrow gap between two buildings. Her feet scrambled to keep in contact with the uneven surface of the alleyway; the cans and discarded bottles that littered the narrow gap making it almost impossible for her to maintain her balance. She opened her mouth to cry out, but almost immediately, one of the hands left her right arm and clamped tightly across her mouth. The gloved hand was large and partially covered her nose as well, making it almost impossible to breath. She struggled hard to free herself from the two men, but neither was interested in letting their quarry go. They kept a tight hold on the young woman until they reached the small area at the back of the theatre.

She gratefully gulped at the air, as the hand was removed from her mouth. Her relief was only short-lived as the two men pushed her towards the wall in front of her. There was no way to slow herself, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the impact.

She slammed into the brickwork; the rough surface taking the skin off of her left cheek as her head collided with the wall. She felt the front of her head explode with pain, and it was followed moments later by a feeling of nausea.

Before she had a chance to regain her senses, she was spun round, a pair of hands pushing at her shoulders, forcing her back up against the wall.

"Where is it?" a man's voice forced its way through the fog in her brain.

She didn't answer, her mind still spinning from the impact with the wall.

The man who was holding her against the wall swore impatiently, and drove his fist into her stomach. She let out a cry of pain, unable to move as his hand returned again to her shoulder – pinning her in place.

"Fine," his companion remarked. "Play it any way that you want. Mr Gage has told you that he won't put up with this constant encroaching into his territory. You want to keep making the same mistake; you're going to have to pay the price."

The woman flinched as the man drew closer. She tried to move again, but the hands gripping her shoulders only tightened, holding her firmly in place. There was nowhere to go.

Rough hands grabbed at her clothes, and she fought against the urge to cry out, as they pawed at her, trying to find where she'd hidden the drugs that the men were certain she was carrying. She heard the smaller of the two men swear as he failed to find anything more in her pockets than a handful of coins and a subway token.

Once the none too gentle search was completed, he stood back, and indicated that his companion should let her go. As the pressure was lifted from her shoulders, the second man delivered another punch to her stomach before spitting at her feet.

"Mr Gage has made it clear that he doesn't want to see you on this patch again Mary," the shorter man growled, as he watched the young woman sink to the floor. He pocketed the subway token and threw the small handful of coins at the woman's feet. "If we find you back here, then next time the treatment will be worse. This is the last warning that we'll be giving out. The next time you or any other of Rickard's mules appear on the streets ... it'll be the last delivery you make. You hear me Mary?"

The woman nodded, her hands wrapped around her stomach, not making any effort to get to her feet.

Satisfied that the message had been understood, the two men turned on their heels and walked away, melting effortlessly back into the press of bodies filling the busy sidewalk.

The woman drew her knees up to her chest and waited for the pain in her chest to subside. With freezing fingers, she dabbed at the blood that was now starting to run down her face from her bloodied nose and cut cheek. She had known that Gage's thugs were on the lookout for her, but she thought that she'd done enough to avoid them. Rickard had made it clear just how important it was that the deliveries were made – failure just wasn't an option.

As the pain finally subsided, she scratched at the ground, trying to locate all the fallen coins. There wasn't enough for another subway ride, but gaining access to the tracks was never too much of a problem; with the state she was in, no-one would want to acknowledge her, and people would rather pretend she wasn't there than worry about the fact that she was riding the subway without paying. She pushed herself slowly to her feet, trying to ignore the dull ache in her ribs – the blows had not been heavy enough to break anything, but she was fairly certain that she would soon be sporting some livid bruises.

She raised a hand to the top of her hat, and felt for the two small plastic bags that were pinned to her hair. She allowed herself a small smile of victory as she realised that they were still there. Gage's men might have the advantage in the size and strength department, but they were invariably stupid. Dabbing at her bleeding cheek with a handkerchief she made her way slowly back out towards the sidewalk, trying to ignore the stares from the passers-by on the street as they took in her battered appearance. She pulled the brim of her hat down lower, and shuffled on her way.

* * *

Kris was cold. She wasn't willing to put any money on it, but she was almost convinced that it was colder in New York than it had been in Vail. There was a good reason - she reminded herself as she shivered within her heavy coat – that she chose to live on the west coast. She peered over the top of her scarf at the people bustling past on the sidewalk and wondered how they put up with such relentlessly freezing conditions year in, year out.

"Why would anyone in their right mind choose to live in a city this cold?" she muttered darkly to her two companions as she pushed her chin into her scarf, trying to keep out the bitingly cold January wind that seemed to be on some personal crusade against her.

"You're asking the wrong person," Kelly told her, as she nudged her friend gently in the back, trying to persuade her to move faster towards the entrance in front of her.

Tiffany looked between the two shivering women and tried to suppress a smile. "You two have spent far too much time soaking up the California sun," she chided. "You've forgotten what real weather is like."

"Real weather **is** warm sun and light sea breezes," Kris grumbled as she pushed on the heavy door in front of her, receiving yet another prod in the back from Kelly as she struggled with the cumbersome door. "This is extreme weather."

"And extremely unnecessary weather at that," Kelly added as she hurried Kris inside and moved into the relative warmth of the building, and allowed herself to relax slightly. "I'm not surprised no-one in this city stops to talk to you; they're all too set on getting indoors and out of the cold."

Tiff shook her head. "This is New York," she reminded them. "That's the bracing wind from the Atlantic you can feel on your faces."

"I could have happily gone my whole life without experiencing bracing wind like that," Kris told her, as she pulled her hand out of one of her gloves and pinched the end of her freezing nose. "Thank goodness for that," she announced with relief. "It's still there. I was beginning to think that it had frozen and fallen off!"

Kelly laughed at the expression on her friend's face. "Just remember that in a day or two from now, we'll be on a flight back home."

"I'm dreaming of nothing else," Kris admitted, as she rubbed her frozen hands together, trying to coax some warmth into them.

"Come on you two," Tiffany again felt the need to try and change her friend's attitudes toward the city. "You've at least got to admit that this place is pretty impressive."

Kris and Kelly glanced around at the tall marble pillars and the wide walkways that extended out in front of them, watching the commuters as they effortlessly manoeuvred their way through the crowds heading directly for the platforms that they required.

"Ok Ok," Kelly finally conceded. "Grand Central does have a certain something."

Kris frowned. "But the ceiling looks as though it's in need of a decent clean. There could be anything up there beneath all that muck."

"True," Tiffany conceded, looking up at the dark green of the ceiling and wishing that her friends could appreciate the city a little more. She had been looking forward to the chance to show them around, but work had kept them busy for the past few days. With the day of their flight back across the country fast approaching, Tiffany was determined to take them to at least a few of the city's landmarks. She had a decision to make, and taking in the sights of the city was going to play its own part in helping her reach that decision. She racked her brains, trying to think of where else to take them. The previous day they had taken one of the many tourist boats out to the Statue of Liberty, but the freezing weather had taken the shine off the visit; both of her companions huddling together in the unheated cabin of the boat, looking as though they'd rather be doing anything else. Tiffany felt that same emotion emanating from them as she led them through the busy concourse.

"Let me buy you coffee," she told them, trying to inject a spark of enthusiasm into the conversation. "And then I'll take you up to the top of the Empire State Building. Give you a chance to take a proper look at the city."

Kris and Kelly exchanged glances; both wondering how to get out of the proposed visit without upsetting their friend. It was obvious to them that she was trying to show off the best of the city, but all that either of them wanted was to head back to the warmth of the hotel and finish up the paperwork that was still outstanding from the case that they'd been working on.

The case itself had been a relatively simple one, and both Kris and Kelly had been surprised that Tiffany had shown such an interest in taking it on. With Charlie away in Europe, they'd been left to their own devices for a month – Bosley assuring them that he'd only ring if something came in that he thought they might be interested in.

Everything had been quiet for the first two weeks, but then the call had come from a very apologetic Bosley, and the three of them had duly reported to the office to hear what Bos had to say.

Tiffany had eagerly picked up the dossier that Bos had prepared on the case; and before Kelly had known what was happening, she had found herself booked on a flight with Kris and Tiffany, and leaving the relative warmth of the west coast, for the miserable, freezing, conditions of the east coast.

Bosley had a lot to answer for when they finally got home. She had spent a miserable five days in New York, chasing after some third rate fence, who thought that he'd be able to shift some priceless antiques without arousing the suspicion of the local dealers. She'd discussed the matter with Kris late one night over coffee, and they'd both agreed that local PD's could easily have handled the case. The only one of them who seemed to be enjoying the trip was Tiffany. She seemed to relish the biting wind, and the noise and bustle of the city; she was certainly the only one of them who felt at home wrapped up in a heavy coat. Kelly thought wistfully of the party at the beach house that Kris had offered to throw. Now, that was something that she was looking forward to…. If they ever managed to get back to the California sunshine.

She forced a smile on her face and gave Tiffany her full attention. She took in the hopeful expression on her friend's face and knew that she couldn't let her down.

"Coffee sounds great," she told her friend, digging Kris in the ribs as she heard the young woman sigh. She watched as Tiffany's eyes lit up.

"I know a little place not far from here," Tiffany told them both warmly, before turning on her heel and setting off across the concourse as though she were an official tour guide, escorting a party. "Follow me," she called back unnecessarily.

Kris caught hold of Kelly's arm and glowered at her friend. "What are you trying to do? Give me frostbite?"

Kelly patted Kris on the arm. "Don't worry," she assured her. "I'll make sure to tell Tiff about some important phone call from home that you have to be back in the hotel to receive." She watched as it was Kris' turn to smile. "You can be sat there wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee and thinking about me as I freeze to death at the top of a building."

Kris squeezed her friend's arm before letting it go. "It'll be a character building experience," she promised as she headed off after the retreating figure of Tiffany.

Kelly shook her head, before setting off after the pair of them.

* * *

Warren Rickard tapped the end of his cigarette lighter against the mahogany top of his desk. He was not a patient man, and he was certainly not used to being kept waiting by subordinates. He sighed heavily and tapped the heavy gold lighter on the desk again. There was the sound of muted tones from the other side of the heavy office door, and Rickard glanced up needlessly at the clock on the wall. The girl was nearly two hours late; something would have to be done about that. He was trying to make an impact on the city; trying to make a name for himself; one that the affluent would want to court, and one that the street would respect. Successful business deals were cementing friendships in important places, but people like Mary Thomas were letting him down where the big money was really to be made.

He pushed the thoughts away as he heard a hesitant knock at the door.

"Enter," he bellowed, placing the lighter on the desk before pushing his hands through his closely cropped black hair. He was proud of his appearance and - no matter who the visitor – he wanted to make sure that he was looking his best.

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges and Lewis appeared in the doorway. The man was a muscle head, and no matter how hard he tried, Rickard couldn't make his right hand man look like anything other than a thug in a suit.

"What is it?" Rickard asked, although he already knew the answer to the question.

"Mary Thomas is here to see you," Lewis grunted before stepping out of the way and letting Rickard see the young woman who had been standing behind him.

"And what precisely have you been doing?" Rickard asked icily, as he took in the state the young woman was in. He clicked his fingers at Lewis, and the man pushed her hard in the back, causing her to stumble into the room. As she came to a halt in front of his desk, Lewis snatched the baseball cap from her head, and then yanked the two packets none-too-gently from her hair.

The woman let out a yelp, as Lewis managed to grab a handful of her hair as he removed the small packets. She glared up at the tall man with undisguised contempt.

Rickard looked at the two packets with distain, as they were dropped on the desk.

"And what precisely are you still doing with those?" he demanded to know, switching his attention back to Mary.

"I ran into a little trouble," she confessed, meeting Rickard's gaze and holding it.

Rickard took in the bruising that was starting to show around her left eye, and the dried blood that was still evident on her cheek.

"So you didn't make the sale?"

"I didn't make the sale," she confirmed. "Gage had his thugs out on the street. They spotted me as I was making my way to the rendezvous."

"That was careless of you," Rickard noted. "You'd better hope for your sake that you do better this afternoon." He paused and took in the expression on her face. "You have some sort of a problem with that?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but Rickard cut in first.

"I pay you to deliver packages. I don't pay you to let me down time and time again." Rickard nodded at Lewis, and the man moved in close behind her, pulling down on her ponytail and wrapping his other hand around her throat.

Rickard watched impassively as the woman gasped for breath as Lewis' hand closed easily around her slender throat, her fingers scrabbling ineffectually, trying to loosen the hold the taller man had on her.

"You deliver what I tell you to deliver; when I tell you to deliver it, or Lewis here will see to it that you're not in a state to deliver anything again." Rickard waited for Lewis to increase the pressure on her throat before continuing. "Am I making myself clear?"

Despite Lewis' tight grip, she managed a slight nod, and satisfied that he was getting his message across, Rickard motioned for Lewis to remove her from the room.

"Get her out of here," he spat. "And make sure she understands the importance of completing this particular task."

"Consider it done Mr Rickard," Lewis acknowledged as he released his grip on the woman's throat, not giving her time to recover her breath before he grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her roughly from the room.

Rickard watched as Lewis manhandled the woman from the room. Women like Mary Thomas were useful. They could be relied upon to do what they were told, and if they did step out of line, then there was a very simple way to get them back working again. Lewis had his uses, and they extended far beyond the basic duties of a bodyguard.

He waited for the door to his office to close before he returned his attention to the work in front of him. He flinched slightly at the sound of the first slap, but quickly tuned it from his head, making a mental note to remind Lewis to take his work further away from the office in future.

* * *

Kelly suppressed a shiver and wished that she'd thought to wear a hat. She bundled her scarf tighter around her neck in an effort to keep out the wind that was biting at her ears and nose.

She glanced across at Tiffany, and was frustrated to see that her friend didn't appear to be too adversely affected by the weather. Tiffany was wrapped up in a long black coat, and seemed not to notice the chill wind that was causing her to shiver despite the heavy layers that she was wearing. Being out in the cold was, in part, her fault. She had been the one to suggest that they not ride the subway. She'd ridden the subway on the previous day, and it was an experience that she wasn't overly keen on repeating. She'd persuaded Tiffany that they should take to the street and flag down a passing cab. Tiffany had warned her that persuading one of the many yellow cabs to actually stop for them wasn't going to be easy during rush hour, but Kelly had been insistent, and now here she was, shivering on the sidewalk of 42nd Street, trying to avoid being trampled by the press of people who were making their own way towards home.

She grumbled inwardly at her own stubbornness, and buried her nose into her scarf. She had to admit that she didn't feel entirely safe walking along the wide sidewalk. It seemed as though every other doorway contained a group of young men huddled together; all smoking and watching the passing pedestrians, looking for an easy mark. She straightened her shoulders, trying to look as though she belonged. She risked a glance at Tiffany, trying to see if her friend had noticed the change in her body language. She felt slightly foolish, but she was out of her comfort zone here.

"It's only another couple of blocks," Tiffany's voice told her, slightly muffled by the scarf she was wearing.

"I'm fine," Kelly told her, privately wishing that she hadn't let Kris off the hook so easily. She had to admit that she was envious at the thought of her friend all warm and snug back inside the hotel suite.

Tiffany turned her head towards her friend and smiled. "I know you're fine. It's just that I'm looking forward to getting off the street. The very air around here feels as though it's filthy."

Kelly smiled at her friend's admission.

Shouts from the opposite side of the street attracted her attention. A woman was dodging between the slower moving pedestrians on the opposite sidewalk and had just narrowly avoided knocking over a man who was carrying a number of parcels. The man swore at the departing figure, but she paid him no heed. The face of the woman was hidden beneath a faded ball cap, and the turned up collar of the coat that she was wearing, but there was something so familiar about the way that she dodged and weaved around the other people that drew Kelly's attention. She tapped Tiffany on the arm and pointed at the next street crossing.

"I need to get over the road," she told her friend. "It's impossible, but I think I've just seen someone I know."

"Sure thing," Tiffany acknowledged, coming to a halt at the next crosswalk. "I'll come with you."

Kelly waited impatiently for the crosswalk sign to change, aware that each second meant that the figure was moving further and further away. Eventually the 'Walk' sign lit up, and Kelly broke into a gentle jog, aiming to close the gap that had formed.

After a block and a half, she was beginning to think that she'd lost the trail, but then she caught a glimpse of the ball cap up ahead and renewed her efforts.

"Where's the fire?" Tiff asked, as she noted the way that Kelly was starting to break into a jog again.

"I think I know that person in front," she repeated her earlier statement. "I mean it's impossible, but I just want to see if I'm right."

Tiff was about to say something in reply, when she felt herself being pushed roughly out of the way.

"Hey!" she yelled indignantly, as two men in dark coats barged past; their eyes fixed on someone in the crowd ahead.

Kelly watched as the figure she was following turned their head at the sound of the commotion. She caught a glimpse of a face she knew only too well, before it was obscured again by the throng of bodies.

She struggled to get a better angle on the street ahead, but none of the pedestrians were willing to give her an inch of the sidewalk. The two men who had barged Tiffany out of the way were making better headway, and Kelly thought that she caught another glimpse of the ball cap, as its owner also broke into a run.

Realising that it was now impossible to catch up with the fleeing figure, Kelly turned her attention back to her friend.

"Are you ok?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"Sure," Tiffany told her ruefully, as she rubbed her arm. "Those guys seemed in an awful hurry." When Kelly didn't reply, Tiffany looked in the direction that her friend was now staring in. "Are you alright? You look as though you've just seen a ghost."

Kelly shook her head. "Call me crazy, but I think I just saw Sabrina!"


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thanks for the welcome guys :)_**

**_I hope that I can keep your attention with this story ... I guess I'll just have to plough on and see how it goes. Thanks for the feedback - it's always good to receive._**

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* * *

_**Sabrina ran as fast as she could, trying to ignore the dull ache from her bruised ribs. The nearest subway station was little more than a block away, and she pumped her legs faster, determined to get there ahead of Gage's thugs. She had a pocketful of change, but there was no way that she was going to stop to buy a token. The crosswalk sign ahead changed to 'Don't walk', but she didn't let up her pace, pushing her body harder and sprinting across the junction to a chorus of squealing brakes and the blare of angry car horns.

Ignoring the disturbance she'd caused she kept pushing on, each pace bringing her closer to the subway entrance. She'd been cornered by Gage's thugs once already, and really didn't relish crossing paths with them again. Her last meeting with them had been civilised by their standards. If they were to corner her again, then the outcome would be very different. The fear of expectation pushed her on, and she ignored the way that her lungs burned with the freezing air as she dodged her way round the slowly moving pedestrians, her attention fixed fully on the station entrance ahead.

She took the subway steps two at a time, oblivious to the angry shouts of the people she pushed out of the way, and concentrated on making her way as quickly as she could across the concourse. She knew that her pursuers would not let up, and she wanted the relative security of boarding a subway train. If she could get down onto the platforms, then she stood a better chance of losing them amid the press of the rush hour.

She pushed in close behind the person in front of her at the turnstiles and gained entrance to the station proper. Without breaking pace she headed for the E train platforms, checking over her shoulder every few moments to make sure that she was not being followed. Luck appeared to be on her side as she made her way down onto the platform; a battered looking subway train rattled into the station, and slowed to a halt with a near-deafening screeching of brakes. As the graffiti covered doors slid open, Sabrina risked a glance back over her shoulder; relieved to see no sign of Gage's men.

She pushed her way into the open carriage, going shoulder to shoulder with the commuters trying to detrain, and ignored the shoves and angry words that were spat in her direction. She slipped onto the last remaining empty seat in the carriage and ducked her head down, hoping that the crowd around her would act as some kind of shield, keeping her presence hidden from anyone who might still be trying to follow her. She felt her heart hammering inside her chest as the conductor intoned the next destination of the train, and willed the man to hurry up.

She let out a heavy sigh of relief as the doors finally slid shut again, and the train heaved and strained its way out of the station. She kept her head low; not wanting to make eye contact with anyone else in the carriage. The subway wasn't necessarily the safest way across the city, but it was the most convenient.

The carriage she was in was jammed with people, but Sabrina's eyes still darted towards the doors every time that the train pulled into a station; ready to move at the slightest sign of one of Gage's men appearing. The further they travelled from his patch, the more confidence she gained.

She knew that no-one on the carriage would come to her aid if she was to run into any sort of trouble; they would simply bury their heads in their books and newspapers and block out what was going on. She'd seen it happen on numerous occasions during her time in the city, and was under no illusions that things would be any different if she were to become the victim.

She shifted on the hard plastic of the seat, and winced in pain as her ribs protested at the sudden movement. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the side of the carriage as she waited for the pain to subside – it had been her own negligence that had led to Gage's thugs cornering her. She berated herself again for the fact that they'd been able to pick up on her trail earlier in the day. If she continued to fail to deliver for Rickard he would quickly lose patience with her, and that was something that she couldn't afford to allow to happen. His sending her straight back onto Gage's turf was the clearest sign she'd received so far that he was losing confidence. A couple of months ago he would have shrugged the matter off and given her another chance to make the delivery. Either Gage was proving to be a resilient foe, or Rickard was contemplating an end to the work that she did for him. The one thing she couldn't afford now was to lose work.

She shivered and pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders as the train rumbled on its way towards Canal Street.

* * *

Kelly cupped the mug she'd been passed with both hands, watching the wisps of steam as they rose and vanished into the air. She took a tentative sip of the hot coffee, revelling in the rich taste that warmed the back of her throat. In the warm and comfortable surroundings of the hotel suite, it was almost possible to believe that they were a world away from the freezing conditions outside.

"Are you sure it was Bri?"

Kelly nodded her head as Kris asked the question for the third time. "When she turned her head, I saw her... It was definitely Bri."

"Did she see you?"

Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "I ... I don't know. It was busy ... but I'm certain that it was her."

Kris took a sip of her own drink, before placing it down on the glass topped table. "But what would she be doing here? I thought Charlie said that she was in Europe."

Kelly shrugged. "That was months ago. It's entirely possible that she's back."

"But surely she would have said something," Kris argued. "Made contact in some way."

"I've not heard anything from her in months," Kelly confessed sadly. "And from what Jill's said, Bri's not made any attempt to contact her either."

Tiffany sat silently and watched the conversation that was playing out in front of her. She'd never met Sabrina, but had heard plenty about her during her time working for Charlie. When she'd initially joined, the two girls had gone to great lengths to avoid mentioning her – as though that in some way would upset her, to know that there had been someone working with them before her. As she'd settled into the job she found that Sabrina's name was mentioned more and more. It was obvious that both of her colleagues missed their friend, and she had on more than one occasion wondered why there appeared to be so little contact between them.

There was a nagging thought forming at the back of her mind, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to give it voice. She watched the concerned looks that passed between her friends, and wasn't sure that she wanted to add to their fears. But, if she remained silent and something serious was going on, then she wasn't certain she'd be able to live with the guilt.

"I think your friend could be in trouble," she told them both quietly, before going on to explain further. "It was those two men who barged into me; they were the reason that she turned back towards us. I saw the way that her eyes widened at the sight of them; that was fear."

Kelly shook her head as she struggled to take in what Tiffany was saying. "I don't believe you."

"Then why did she run?" Tiffany asked evenly.

Kelly found that she didn't have an answer.

"Tiffany has a point," Kris conceded, wishing again that she'd not made an excuse to return to the relative comfort of the hotel suite. Maybe, she told herself; maybe if she'd been there; maybe she would have been able to catch up with Sabrina. "If it was Bri that you saw Kel, then it sounds as though she could be in trouble."

"But what is she even doing here?" Kelly wanted to know. "If she was in some sort of trouble why wouldn't she tell us ... or Charlie at the very least?"

Kris and Tiffany exchanged glances; neither of them having an answer for their friend.

"If she is in trouble, then I say that we go back out there and try and find her," Kelly declared, almost challenging the other two to disagree with her.

"That could take some time," Kris pointed out gently.

"You're saying that we shouldn't bother!"

Kris raised her hands in response to her friend's accusing tone. "Oh no, not at all. I'm just saying that trying to find someone in a city this size, when we're not certain that she's here at all ... it ahh, ... it could be more than a little difficult."

Kelly was forced to admit that Kris had a point. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "It's just frustrating to not be able to get in touch with her." She drummed her fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair. "I don't even have a number for her dad anymore."

Kris watched her friend and realised that a lot of Kelly's frustration was borne out of the sudden realisation that she had completely lost touch with Sabrina. It was something that had happened without either of them realising. Days of no contact, had turned into weeks, and before they realised it, months.

She let out a long breath. "It's going to be a big ask to try and find one person in a city of so many millions. I just wish that we could use the resources that Charlie has at his disposal."

"Charlie is back in phone contact in a few days," Kelly reminded them stubbornly. "I say we look until we can talk to him direct; find out if he knows anything." She looked at the expression on the faces of her two friends. "Are you with me?"

"If we're going to do this then I guess we start on 42nd," Tiffany suggested. "As that's where you saw her. We could take a few blocks between us; cover as much ground as possible. I'm not all that certain that we'll find her, but if we're going to start somewhere, then the area around 42nd makes sense."

Kelly smiled her thanks, and then looked to Kris for support. Kris leant forward and covered Kelly's hands with hers. "We'll find her," she promised her. "And when we do, you can be the one to interrogate her about where she's been and what she's been doing."

* * *

Sabrina pushed open the front door to the apartment building, glad to be out of the freezing wind that was once again gusting along the street, blowing the trash around her feet as she walked. There was something deeply unforgiving about the New York winter; it chilled a person to their very core, and made no concessions to the weak and the old. Making her way back from the station, she'd passed homeless people bundled up in the doorways of buildings, or huddling around one of the many steam vents that billowed up onto the street – all of them desperately trying to shut out the harsh conditions. She felt a pang of guilt at the fact that she could do nothing but walk past and pretend not to see, but, as she reminded herself, she wasn't in much of a position to help them.

She shut the door as quietly as she could, knowing full well that any loud sound would bring Murray darting out of his own rooms. He wasn't the worst landlord she'd rented from in the past eighteen months, but he did have a tendency to pay more attention to her than she was strictly comfortable with.

The dank hallway was in semi-darkness, and Sabrina made her way cautiously forward. It wasn't unknown for there to be someone lurking in the shadows, waiting to relieve the unwary of their change. After the day that she'd had, she really didn't have the patience to deal with any more hassle.

She hadn't moved more than a few paces when the door to Murray's apartment was wrenched open, and the flickering light from a television set spilled out into the hallway. The slightly distorted soundtrack to a sitcom reached her ears, before Murray pulled the door closed behind him and stepped out into the hallway.

Sabrina forced a smile onto her face, and sketched a quick wave in his direction. If she was lucky, then Murray would decide that it wasn't worth hassling her, and would just let her go on her way in peace.

She felt her heart sink as Murray reached the foot of the stairs and leant up against the wall; folding his arms purposefully as she approached. "I'd better see evidence of that rent money real soon," he warned her.

"I'll have it," she assured him, trying to ignore the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke that emanated from him "I just need to run a few errands and then I'll have the money."

"You said that last week," he reminded her, scratching at the three day's worth of stubble on his cheek. "And I had to remind you several times before you finally came through with the cash."

Sabrina held up her hands to placate him. "I'll have the money. Tomorrow at the latest."

"If you don't keep up with your rent, then I can't be expected to look after your well-being." Murray stared down at his stubby chipped nails. "It would be such a shame if the door to your room were to be accidentally left unlocked one night. Nasty things can happen to young women who live on their own."

Sabrina recognised the threat for what it was, and refused to let it get to her. She knew that he was more than capable of following through on the threat. She had her suspicions that he was in her apartment when she wasn't there; searching through her things, checking that there wasn't something that he could sell on, or use as leverage against her.

Murray's tendency to go through her things was the main reason why she no longer had a gun. Putting a firearm in the hands of someone like Murray wasn't something that she was prepared to do. She felt a little more vulnerable without its reassuring presence, but it was something that couldn't be helped.

She raised her head and met his gaze. "I'll have the money Murray." She gestured in his direction. "Do you mind?"

Murray raised an eyebrow. "You have a problem?"

Sabrina sighed. She was tired of this particular dance. Murray would frequently block her way on the stairs, and then claim not to understand what the problem was.

"I'm not in the mood for this Murray. Just move will you?"

The expression on Murray's face hardened. "What; think you're too good for me? Think that you can just brush me aside as though I was nothing more than trash?"

Sabrina cursed beneath her breath. She had overstepped the mark, and now needed to get back on his good side. She plastered a contrite expression on her face. "I'm tired Murray, please, just cut me some slack." She didn't like having to ask him for favours like this, but she couldn't afford to have him on her case as well.

Murray's mouth widened into a leering smile. "And what are you going to do for me, huh? What's the reward for letting you off the rent for another day?"

Sabrina tried to suppress a shiver as Murray pushed away from the wall from took a pace towards her. She really didn't have the patience to deal with the big lumbering bear of a man right now.

She flinched as Murray's hand clamped down upon her shoulder, and she fought against the urge to shrug his hand away. Upsetting him wasn't the smart thing to do.

The hallway was again filled with the sound of the television, as the door to Murray's apartment was yanked open.

"Murray ... telephone!" a woman's voice called out; her tone impatient.

"In a minute," Murray yelled back over his shoulder; his attention still fully focussed on Sabrina.

"Murray...Now! The man isn't prepared to wait all day."

Murray stood for a moment, torn between what he was doing, and responding to the news of the call. Swearing beneath his breath, he squeezed Sabrina's shoulder tightly before releasing his grip and turning back to his own apartment.

"Be sure and have that money for me tomorrow," he called back over his shoulder. "Should hate to have to send the boys up for a late night visit."

Sabrina stood wordlessly and watched as Murray swaggered back into his apartment; the blond-haired woman who'd called out to him, glaring at her with undisguised contempt. The woman obviously saw her as some sort of threat; Sabrina only wished she could let the woman know just how grateful she was for her timely intervention.

The woman leant against the frame of the door, and ran her eye over her imagined rival. Shaking her head with contempt, she pushed away from the frame and slammed the door shut.

Sabrina let out a sigh of relief, and let her body sag back against the wall. The run-ins with Murray were becoming more and more frequent. She resolved to start looking for somewhere else to stay. The one thing that the Lower East Side had in abundance was low rent rooms – for that Sabrina was eternally grateful.

Regaining her composure, she straightened up, and headed up the stairs towards the third floor and her small apartment. No payment from Rickard today, meant no money for groceries; she paused on the second floor landing and tried to recall if there was anything left in the cupboard. If not, it was going to be another long night.

* * *

Tiffany bit back her frustration as she was elbowed in the ribs again by a hatchet-faced old woman, who seemed to think that she wasn't moving quickly enough along the sidewalk. She wanted to give the woman a piece of her mind, but she fought back against the urge; she was supposed to be keeping a low profile, supposed to be looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, not generating entertainment for the passing crowd. She had no doubt that the woman would come out fighting if she were to make any sort of comment. She'd heard her chewing someone else out earlier for getting in her way, and really didn't relish being on the receiving end of the scathing tongue of the tough New Yorker.

Tiffany glanced down at her watch and wondered if it was time to call it a day. Her feet were aching with all the walking she had done, and she was really no closer to finding the woman that Kelly had spotted in the crowd two days earlier. It had always been something of a long shot to imagine that she would be back in the same neighbourhood so quickly, but both Kelly and Kris had been keen to try and locate their former colleague.

She had met up with Kris for lunch on the first fruitless day of searching, and taken the opportunity to quiz her friend to find out a little more about the way that Sabrina had left the agency.

When she'd been approached for the job with Charlie, Bosley had said little about the fact that she was being hired as a replacement. Her initial fear of rejection, upon finding out the truth, had quickly dissipated. Both Kelly and Kris had been nothing but welcoming, and as time had passed, she had found herself becoming close friends with both of them. One thing however had never really been discussed, and that was the reason for Sabrina's departure.

Between mouthfuls of steaming hot pasta, Kris had described the somewhat whirlwind manner in which Sabrina had left the company. Reading between the lines, Tiffany fancied that she sensed a trace of disappointment in Kris' tone. Her one time close colleague no longer kept in regular touch with any of them, and for all intents and purposes had vanished off the face of the Earth. Kris herself offered up the argument that marriage was a life-changing event, and that was probably what was keeping her away from them, but again Tiffany had the sense that Kris wasn't entirely happy with her own explanation.

She'd let the subject drop at that point, as she wasn't looking to upset Kris, but it did raise the question of why Sabrina had only left her last couple of messages with Charlie, and not her friends directly. Tiffany kept those thoughts to herself, and instead tried to lift Kris' spirits, assuring her that if they stuck to their search patterns, they were bound to find Sabrina's trail again.

As she stared around at the crowded sidewalk, and the hundreds of people that were bustling by, she began to regret building up her colleague's hopes. They had all been out walking the blocks around 42nd for the past two days and that hadn't been a single sighting of Sabrina. She knew that Kelly wouldn't be the one to suggest that the search was hopeless, and it would again fall to her to be cold voice of reason. She sighed inwardly – it really wasn't a role that she relished.

A ripple of movement in the press of bodies ahead of her attracted her attention. She blinked in disbelief as she spotted a familiar looking faded ball cap. She increased her pace, pushing through the crowd, trying to get closer. She felt her heart rate increase. Was this going to be the break that they needed? A voice in her head told her that it could be anyone in front of her. There were plenty of people wearing ball caps in this weather; the law of probabilities told her that the chances of it being the same person that they had seen earlier were small. She pushed that thought down as she gradually began to close the gap.

* * *

Sabrina hugged the lengthening shadows as best as she could; hoping that they'd help her pass unnoticed along the sidewalk. She knew that Gage's goons would be out on the street, and that she was still fairly high on their wanted list. Another run in with them was something that she could well do without. Rickard had given her another consignment to deliver, and she knew that it was in part a test for her. If she failed to complete the task today, then Rickard would see it as a sign that she wasn't good enough to be on the books.

She slowed her pace as she neared one of the few remaining storefronts. Most of the buildings on the block had blacked out their windows, or used them to display posters for forthcoming films, and as a result full length windows were few and far between. As she passed by, she looked into the plate glass, checking to see if anyone was behind her.

She'd made two of the drops that Rickard had ordered her to do, and the one thing she couldn't afford at this moment in time, was to lose the money that she was now carrying. There was no way she could afford to replace it, and she was certain that Rickard would demand a pound of flesh in return for any loss on her part; an order that she knew Lewis would be only too happy to carry out. She shivered involuntarily as she thought of Rickard's muscle bound enforcer. There was something about the man that always put her on edge. The man took an obvious pleasure in his work, and she wasn't about to gift him the opportunity of getting close to her again. She still bore the marks from her last encounter with him.

She pushed the thought from her mind and glanced again in the tall window that fronted the store to her left.

She was almost past the glass when she caught sight of a blond woman who was trailing some ten feet behind her. She'd seen her earlier, just before she'd made the first drop. She'd recognised her immediately from the previous day, and had, on impulse, dropped into the shadows and monitored the blond woman's movements. Whoever she was, the woman didn't belong in the neighbourhood; her clothes made her stand out as someone who wasn't used to spending her time among the dealers and the pimps who operated on the nearby street corners. Pegging her finally as nothing more than some wet-behind-the-ears narcotics officer out on some sort of orientation, Sabrina had altered her route to avoid her, and then continued on with her business.

Having her on her tail now was the last thing she needed. She picked up her pace again; heading for the end of the block. If the woman was following her, she'd try and shake her over the next couple of blocks; if that failed she'd head down into the subway and lose her there. One thing little Miss Undercover Narc looked as though she wouldn't fancy was a subway ride.

* * *

Tiffany watched as the woman in front of her picked up her speed. She clicked her tongue against her teeth in frustration, and attempted to match the increase in pace without losing sight of her quarry. The woman – who she was now certain was Sabrina – didn't appear to be aware of her presence behind her, but she was certainly on the alert for others on the sidewalk.

She kept the baseball cap and the bobbing hair of its owner in view as best as she could, as the figure expertly manoeuvred their way along the crowded sidewalk. It was going to be a little awkward when she finally did manage to catch up with the woman; she wasn't really sure just how she was going to start the conversation. She watched as Sabrina's pace suddenly slowed as she grabbed the arm of a passerby and pulled them along with her. The figure seemed less than pleased at being accosted, but soon settled into step with her.

After a few words had been exchanged, the conversation was apparently at an end and the young man she'd been talking to left her side and merged with the crowd. Tiffany kept her attention fixed on Sabrina, as she headed for the crosswalk at the end of the block.

The sign ahead switched to 'Don't Walk', and Tiffany finally thanked luck for being on her side. If she picked up her pace, then she should be able to catch up with Sabrina whilst she was waiting for the lights to change.

She had just begun to close the gap, when she felt herself being pushed to one side. For a second she thought that someone was just brushing past her, but then she felt a sharp tug on the strap of her bag.

"Hey," she yelled out angrily, grabbing hold of the bag strap with both hands; determined not to let some kid get away with mugging her in broad daylight.

She turned her head and glared at the teenage boy who was attempting to relieve her of her purse. Her face registered surprise as she immediately recognised the boy as the one who she had just seen talking with Sabrina. The pause of surprise was enough for the young man, and he yanked at the purse again, ripping it from her grip, before turning on his toes and making a run for it through the crowd of people.

It took a few moments for what had happened to sink in. She looked in the direction of Sabrina and caught the grin of victory that crossed the woman's face before she turned and darted across the road. Tiffany turned back, and tried to see where the young boy had disappeared to. He was nowhere in sight.

Tiffany swore loudly; not caring about the reaction she got from the other pedestrians on the sidewalk. None of them had turned a head at the bag snatching, but now it appeared that they were offended by her choice of language. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, trying to work out what to do next. There was no point in chasing after Sabrina; she was going to be too far away to catch, and it was equally pointless trying to track the young man who now had her bag. She was angry and frustrated with herself in equal measure. She pushed up the sleeve of her coat and glanced at the time. She was due to meet with the others in less than thirty minutes. At least, she tried to console herself, she had something to tell them. Quite what Sabrina's friends would make of her actions was less than clear.

Shaking her head in frustration, Tiffany turned on her heel and set off in the direction of the diner where they were to meet.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Firstly, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed – yes there was a series of lame little happy dances from this end! **_

_**This is a relatively short chapter for me, but there will be another one up in a few days. **_

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* * *

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Tiffany pushed open the heavy glass door of the small rundown diner, and her senses were immediately assailed by an overpowering mixture of smells and sounds. The transistor radio sat on the counter was blaring out an old Fifties track; some haphazard tuning meant that every so often the slightly distorted words of the singer would be lost amid a buzz of static.

Behind the counter a stout looking man with a heavily stained white apron appeared to be running his empire with a rod of iron. He was gesticulating wildly, and loudly berating a teenage boy who appeared not to grasp the finer techniques of washing up. Fighting against the cacophony of sound, a tired looking cashier was trying to explain to an elderly patron that he still owed her another thirty cents. Tiffany tried to tune this loud backdrop out of her head and instead concentrated on locating her friends.

The diner was almost empty at this hour; only a few people were sat at the Formica topped tables. There was a young couple, both smoking heavily, and sharing a single cup of coffee between them at one of the window seats; just beyond them an elderly man sat shovelling fries into his mouth as though he'd not eaten in a week. Tiffany's gaze carried on, and she finally spotted Kelly and Kris seated in one of the small booths that lined the far side of the diner.

She sketched a wave, and headed in their direction.

"You sure know how to pick a place to eat," Tiff told her friends coolly as she reached their booth.

"What happened to you?" Kris took in the expression on Tiffany's face and knew that something had been going on. She looked her friend over, and realised almost immediately that her purse was missing.

"You won't believe me when I tell you," Tiffany told her as she slid into the empty side of the booth.

Kelly raised a hand to signal the waitress for some more coffee, before turning her attention to Tiffany. "Did you have any luck in finding Sabrina? The two of us walked all day and came up with zilch."

Tiffany looked between her two friends as she waited for the waitress to pour the coffee from the pot that she was carrying. She'd been trying to work out exactly what she was going to say to the two of them.

She tapped her fingers on her leg impatiently as the waitress decided to alleviate the monotony of her shift by trying to engage them in conversation. It took a few exchanges of meaningless pleasantries before the waitress realised that the three women weren't interested in talking, and she muttered something beneath her breath before shuffling back to her station.

Resolving to leave the poor women a sizable tip, Tiffany sat back in her seat and regarded her friends.

"I saw Sabrina on 42nd and 8th." She waited for their reaction, before continuing. "Just before she set me up to have my purse stolen!"

"Hey, whoa, whoa; back up a little," Kelly held up a hand. "You saw her?"

"She did what!" Kris demanded to know, her tone one of disbelief.

Tiffany reached for her cup of coffee, mindful of the stains that marked the surface of the table. "I'm saying that I saw Sabrina and that, for some reason, your friend decided to set some street mugger onto me. I don't call that exactly friendly."

Tiffany watched as both girls shook their heads.

"There must be some mistake," Kris voiced the thought that they had both shared. "She wouldn't do that."

"I know what I saw," Tiffany replied. "I saw her talking with this young guy, and then the next thing you know, the kid's ripping the purse from my shoulder, whilst she's making a break in the opposite direction." Tiffany took in the look of disbelief on the faces of her friends. "I know what I saw," she told them firmly. "And I'm telling you that she set me up."

Kelly sat back in her seat and shook her head. "I don't understand," she admitted. "That really doesn't sound like her." She paused. "You are sure that it was her?"

Tiffany let out a long sigh. "It was her Kel, no question. It was the same woman that we saw on 42nd a couple of days ago, and you were certain then that that was Sabrina."

She picked up her coffee again, and regarded her two friends. They were sat in silence, trying to make sense of what they had just heard.

"We should go back out there and find her," Kelly finally spoke up, one hand already reaching for her coat.

Tiffany shook her head, as she took another mouthful of the surprisingly good coffee. "From the way she took off, I don't think that she'd go back there today. My guess is that she hit the subway and got out of the area as soon as she'd finished setting me up." She was aware that she was making a big deal out of what the woman had done, but she was still smarting over the incident, and failing to understand what had motivated it.

"We'll come back tomorrow then?" Kelly wasn't about to let the idea drop. "Spend the day searching the blocks around 42nd. We know that she's been seen there twice in a matter of days."

Tiffany placed her cup in its saucer and kept her attention fixed on the chipped white rim. "Did you ever think that she might not want to be found?"

She raised her head slowly; knowing that her words would have upset Kelly.

"That's a ridiculous thing to say," Kelly protested.

"Is it?" Tiffany queried as softly as she could. "Twice we've seen her, and twice she's done everything in her power to get away from us."

"Maybe you spooked her," Kelly argued. "After all she doesn't know who you are."

Tiffany looked at her friend levelly. "There's no reason for her to be spooked. And most regular spooked people don't go to the effort of setting someone up to be mugged. She must have spotted me, and decided that - for some reason - she didn't want me following her."

"Well when we find her, you can ask her about it," Kelly told her friend sharply, finding it hard not to automatically defend Sabrina's actions.

Tiffany looked to Kris to see if she was more open to the idea that something might be affecting Sabrina.

"It doesn't sound like Bri," she reluctantly agreed. "What I wouldn't give to be able to call Charlie right now; maybe he knows what's going on."

"Charlie's back in the country very soon. Trust me, as soon as he lands I'm going to be straight on the phone to him," Kelly announced decisively. She looked between her two friends. "I know we had flights booked to go back home, but I for one am staying until I get to the bottom of this." She stared evenly at Tiffany. "I'm not asking either of you to stay if you don't want to."

"I'm with you," Kris immediately responded, her tone a little hurt at the suggestion that she might abandon her friend. "If she's in some kind of trouble, then I want to help."

Tiffany turned her cup around in its saucer. "Ok," she finally relented. "I'm staying as well. And when we do finally catch up with your friend, I've got a few things I want straightened out."

Kelly took in the firm expression on Tiffany's face, not certain that she liked the way that her friend was treating Bri. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. "I'm going back out there," she told them both decisively. "I'm going back out on the street, and I'm going to stay there till I find Bri."

Tiffany shook her head. "I don't think you'll find her, not today."

Kelly slid out of the booth. "Well I can't just sit here and do nothing," she snapped at Tiffany, raising a hand in apology almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "I just can't sit here, knowing that she's out there somewhere. She's got to be in some sort of trouble and I want to help."

"I understand," Tiffany replied softly. "Do you want some company?"

Kelly shook her head and smiled wanly. "I think I just need to clear my head. I'll see you both back at the hotel."

"OK," Kris studied her friend carefully. "See you in a couple of hours."

She watched as Kelly wound her way through the tables and headed out onto the street.

"Bri and Jill were Kelly's self-made family before we came along," Kris broke the silence. "I think this is hurting more than she thought it would. We just need to give her a bit of space." She stared down into the bottom of her coffee cup. "I sure wish I knew what the hell Bri was up to."

Tiffany regarded her young friend for a moment. "This isn't affecting you in the same way, is it?"

Kris shrugged her shoulders. "Jill moved away from home when she joined the force, and then again when she went to work for Charlie. I got used to it... people moving on. I'm concerned about why Bri's in the city, but Kelly ... I think she's feeling a little betrayed... a little confused."

"Like one of her family let her down?"

Kris smiled thinly. "Something like that." She pushed her coffee cup away from her. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Sure," Tiffany paused for a moment. "But you're going to have to get the check ... I don't have any money!"

* * *

Harry Gage watched the fire in the grate as it crackled and spat. He had never wanted much out of life; he'd not expected it to hand him anything on a plate, and if for any reason it did, he was always the first to ask what the catch was. He'd drifted through his time at school, ducking out onto the Brooklyn back streets when a day working the corner for a buck or two seemed more interesting than the lesson the teacher had planned. He'd learnt the art of making a dollar, and that had been enough to earn him a little slice of success.

As time had passed he realised that there were other ways to make money; other ways that meant that the customer would always come back. Selling something that the customer couldn't get through the day without made good business sense to him, and he'd set about building up a network of dealers and runners in Manhattan. He'd chosen his neighbourhood carefully and in no time at all had established himself as someone not to be crossed. Everything north of 38th was his. If someone's pocket was picked in Times Square without his say so, then he expected a cut. Nothing, but nothing went down without someone consulting him. At least that was the way that things had worked for the past twenty years or so.

Things, on the surface at least, were good but in recent months there had been a persistent irritation on the periphery of his business; an intrusion into his dealings that he couldn't allow to go unpunished any longer. He'd watched with interest the way that Warren Rickard had been building up his own business. He'd initially had no problems with the man he considered to be little more than a young upstart, but as time had gone by, more and more alarm bells had started to sound. Reports had been coming back of deals going down in his neighbourhood that had nothing to do with him. Previously loyal employees were now leaving his side and going to work for Rickard. It had soon become apparent that Rickard was trying to muscle in on things.

Recent intelligence had informed him that Rickard was trying to sell on 43rd. He'd sent two of his men out to take care of the problem, but it looked as though they were incapable of completing even the simplest assignment.

He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table as he listened to the litany of excuses that his two employees were coming up with. It was one thing to instil fear into one's employees; it was another to have to listen to them back-pedalling when they had failed to accomplish the task that they'd been set.

He slammed his hand down flat on the desk, and their defensive voices were immediately silenced.

"You missed her again!" The statement required no answer. "I set you one simple job and you can't manage to pull that off."

"She wasn't on the streets today," Branning protested; immediately hearing the slight groan from his colleague.

Gage rose to his feet, kicking away the metal chair that he'd been sitting on. "She wasn't on the streets," he repeated. "Then who do you suppose it was who delivered to Harrington and Smithson?"

His question was met with stony silence from the two men who were standing in front of him.

"Shall I tell you who delivered to them? Shall I tell you who seems to be forever getting to our clients before you do!" He glared at them both, daring them to answer. "Do you need me to spell it out to you exactly how this makes me feel!"

"No sir," Lawson growled, wishing that a hole would open up in the floor and swallow him whole.

"Why do you suppose it is that one woman; one piece of street trash like Mary Thomas can keep getting the better of you?"

Gage paced impatiently across the room, trying and failing to keep a lid on his temper. "I want to send a message to Rickard; I want him to understand clearly that he can't keep sending people onto my turf and expect to get away with it. As things stand he's getting away with everything he tries."

"Thomas didn't have anything on her the last time we stopped her," Branning blurted out, again earning himself another sigh from his colleague.

"Branning, do I understand that you have seen Thomas on the street recently?" There was a dangerous edge in Gage's voice; a fact that wasn't lost on Branning. He considered his words carefully before answering.

"We saw her a couple of days ago. She was down on 34th, near Penn Station. She wasn't carrying, but we made sure that she knew not to come up past 34th." The lie came easily from his mouth; he'd learnt that mixing the truth with a little fabrication was the safest option.

Gage fixed Branning with a steely glare. "I'm sure you scared the life out of her," he remarked without humour. "You scared her so much that she came straight back up here the next day and made a drop. I want you to find Miss Thomas. I want you to find her and follow her home. I want to you to send a message to Rickard, and I want you to make it clear. Do you think you can manage that!"

Branning exchanged a look with Lawson. "We'll get the message through," he promised. "This time tomorrow, Rickard's gonna have to start looking for a new runner."


	4. Chapter 4

**_Apologies for the delay. I've been a bit swamped by the real world, and don't seem to have had the time to do anything that wasn't work related. Well I've escaped for a short while to post this._**

**_Thanks again for the reviews ... cue the lame little happy dance again!_**

* * *

Sabrina ducked back into the relative security of the shop doorway. She told herself that she was being over cautious, but after the events of the past couple of days, she wasn't overly keen on running into any more of Gage's thugs. This was their self-appointed territory and Gage wasn't keen on losing out on business. There was also the matter of the cop she'd spotted earlier. Harassment by the police was an occupational hazard, but she wasn't keen on the idea of detectives taking an interest in her activities – keeping away from one set of thugs was hard enough. She felt a brief pang of guilt when she thought about the way that she'd set the woman up, but she quickly buried the feeling. There wasn't time to wallow in self-recrimination. There was a package to deliver, and she couldn't afford to let anyone get in the way.

She scanned the street ahead and froze as she spotted two familiar looking figures making their way along the sidewalk. If it wasn't for the fact that they were patrolling the streets looking for her, Sabrina might have allowed herself a smile. Gage's men looked for all the world like a couple of stereotypical heavies; the sort that might make it all the way through a 1930's gangster film without being given a name or a meaningful line of dialogue. The simple fact that she knew what they were capable of meant that she hung back in the shadows and silently watched them go by.

When she was satisfied that they were well on their way towards the next block: Sabrina moved back out of the shadows. She'd nearly completed Rickard's tasks for the day, one more drop and she could get back on the subway and head home.

She wasn't sure exactly what it was that made her scan the opposite side of the road again; It may have been some lingering doubt about the direction that Gage's men had taken – whatever the reason was, Sabrina's eyes widened in disbelief, and she felt her heart skip as she caught the unmistakable profile of one of her former colleagues making their way along the sidewalk.

She stood motionless for a few seconds, as though unable to believe her eyes. The moment of stillness was abruptly brought to an end as she was jostled and shoved to one side by the other people on the sidewalk.

Sabrina swore beneath her breath and ducked back into the relative security of the shadows her heard now pounding in fear; what the hell was Kelly doing in New York? The chances of bumping into her friends had seemed so improbable, that a short while after moving to the city she had stopped looking out for them; stopped expecting to see them everywhere that she went.

She watched her friend, waiting to see where she was headed. To her great frustration, Kelly stopped on the sidewalk and looked around, ignoring the pointed comments and complaints that she was getting from the locals who had better things to do than try and dodge their way around out-of-towners who didn't know the basic laws of the street.

A sick feeling formed in the pit of Sabrina's stomach as she watched the way that Kelly was scanning the faces of everyone that passed. She was looking for someone. A voice in the back of her mind told her that Kelly could be looking for anyone – there could be the simple explanation that she was looking for someone for a client; that her presence in New York was nothing more than mere coincidence. That thought was soon lost amid a growing sense of unease; what if Kelly was looking for her? What if she had found out what had happened and was on her tail. Either way, Sabrina realised that she had to get out of the neighbourhood as quickly as possible. She couldn't afford for her friend to find her here. She watched as a couple of young street kids noticed Kelly's presence. She watched the way that they drifted slowly to lean up against the side of the building, waiting to see what she'd do. They were sizing Kelly up as a potential target. Sabrina swore beneath her breath as she caught the unmistakable glint of a blade beneath the jacket of one of the boys. Now she **had** to do something – she couldn't just stand by and watch her friend get mugged. Glancing quickly around; checking for the presence of Gage's men, Sabrina broke from the shadows and headed on an intercept course for the two kids. If she could stop them; then maybe she could get out of the situation without letting Kelly know that she was there.

Keeping her head down, she weaved her way through the traffic that was backed up, waiting for the lights to change – her eyes darting across the road to the two teenagers who looked as though they were about to make their move.

Reaching the relative safety of the opposite sidewalk, Sabrina made a beeline for the two young men. She caught up with them as they were beginning their approach.

"She's a cop," she hissed beneath her breath. "It's their latest sting. They caught a friend of mine a couple of blocks over earlier in the week," she added as the first man showed no sign of slowing up. "There's a van load of uniforms around the corner just waiting to cart you away. Carrying a knife like that is gonna cost you a lot of years."

The extra detail seemed to do the trick. Both young men diverted away from their intended target, and turned their collars up, before melting away into the crowd.

Sabrina scouted the area again. Kelly hadn't spotted her, but Gage's men were making another patrol of the block. They were heading in her direction. She had to get out of the neighbourhood, and fast.

"Hey!" a familiar voice broke into her thoughts, and Sabrina felt her heart rate quicken. She raised her head and immediately felt Kelly's brown eyes boring into her own. She stood motionless for what felt like an eternity, but was jolted back to reality as she caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye. Gage's men had heard the shout as well, and, having recognised her, were now heading her way at speed. She forced her feet to move; pushing her startled muscles into life. Gage's men were closing in on her; she had to get away from them. Muttering an apology of sorts, she grabbed at the shoulders of the man who was standing between her and her pursuers. She pushed him with all the strength that she had, and was relieved when he lost his balance and cannoned into the two thugs. The three men fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and Sabrina took the opportunity to put as much distance between them as she could. She heard Kelly's voice call out again, and was for once grateful for the characteristic disinterest that the New Yorkers showed for those around them. No-one tried to intervene; no one tried to get in her way. She pushed her way through the teeming crowd, her heart pounding, adrenaline pumping through her system. She had to find some way of getting out of sight. Kelly had seen her now, and knowing her friend she wasn't likely to give up on the chase easily. She was thankful for the fact that she had the advantage of knowing the area. There would be shortcuts that she could use that Kelly would be unaware of. She darted into the entranceway of an abandoned theatre and pressed her back up into the recess created by the building's emergency exit.

She took in deep gulping breaths as she tried to slow her heart rate. She'd made a mess of the situation and now she had to deal with the aftermath. Kelly was out there on the street and aware of her presence as were Gage's tame thugs. An unpleasant thought sprang into her mind; what if Gage's men had seen Kelly? What if they connected the two of them? She leant her head against the cold metal of the door and swore beneath her breath. She had to get Kelly out of the neighbourhood – and she had to make sure that she didn't come back.

* * *

Kelly slowly began to face up to the fact that she wasn't going to find Sabrina. She'd been up and down the same few streets since their chance encounter; looking in every doorway, checking the faces of the passing crowd; trying to see if Sabrina was amongst their number. So far she'd had no luck, but had had her fair share of run ins with locals who didn't appreciate the attention she was giving them. She was still stung by the way that her friend had bolted at her call. It had been a shock to her when she'd turned and spotted her making her way along the sidewalk behind her, and it had taken her a few moments to finally find her voice. Sabrina's reaction had not been one that she was expecting. Tiffany's words came back unbidden to her mind. What if Sabrina didn't want to be found? What if she was running from her friends? Kelly tried to quash the thought. Sabrina wasn't like that, but she was at a loss to explain why her friend had bolted.

She let out an involuntary yelp as a hand closed over her arm and pulled her roughly off of the street and into a dark hallway. She stumbled, and struggled to regain her footing as she was pulled through the dank puddles and piles of trash that pitted the narrow hallway; her eyes struggling to adjust to the stygian gloom.

"What the hell are you doing here?" an angry voice demanded to know, as Kelly felt herself spun round and forced back up against the damp wall of the building. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

Kelly struggled to regain her senses. Things had happened in a blur, and she was trying to make some kind of sense out of what was going on.

"Sabrina!" the name fell from her lips as she took in the woman who was standing in front of her. Her face was partially hidden behind the pulled down brim of a baseball cap, but it was unmistakeably Sabrina.

"You've got to get out of here," Sabrina urged, her glance immediately darting in the direction of the people passing by on the main street. "This is not your kind of neighbourhood."

"Bri ..." Kelly was still reeling in shock at the fact that she was finally standing face to face with her friend.

"Look, just get out of here and forget that you've seen me," Sabrina urged; her voice sharp and businesslike.

"What's going on?" the shock was replaced by a sense of confusion. "What are you doing skulking around in abandoned buildings?"

Sabrina rubbed her freezing hands together nervously, and glanced again towards the end of the hallway. "I can't explain ... not here."

As she turned back, Kelly caught sight of the scratches and bruising that marked her friend's left cheek before they were hidden by the deep shadows. She also took in the state of the clothing that her friend was wearing.

"What's been going on," she moved a hand forward, reaching for the brim of the baseball cap, trying to see the injuries more clearly.

Sabrina backed away, pulling the brim of the cap lower to hide the marks. "It's nothing," she insisted quickly. "Just being a little clumsy, that's all."

Kelly nodded her head. "Right. Of course that's the reason. Don't play me for a fool Bri; I want to help you."

"The best thing you can do is to get out of here, and leave me alone."

Kelly shook her head, and grabbed hold of her friend's arm as she turned to leave. "You're going to have to do better than that," she told her.

She was shocked as the hand was roughly shaken off, and in the half-light she caught the expression of impatience that flashed across her friend's face.

"I don't have time to play games," Sabrina hissed as she backed a pace away. "Stay out of this. Stay out of my way."

"No way," Kelly stood her ground. "You tell me what's going on right now, or I'm going to make so much noise that everyone in the neighbourhood will come running."

Kelly saw the look of fear that ghosted across her friend's face, and immediately regretted her choice of words. The expression of fear was enough to unnerve her. Out of the group, Bri had always been the one to take on whatever was thrown at them head on, and then to think about the consequences later. She'd never called her friend reckless to her face, but had privately thought it sometimes, and to see her first reaction as fear was unsettling.

She watched as her friend looked around again, checking that there wasn't anyone approaching their position. She was on full alert, seemingly expecting danger at every turn. Kelly tried to shake the feeling of unease that was settling around her shoulders.

"We can't talk here," Sabrina insisted.

"We'll I'm not leaving till you tell me what's going on!"

Sabrina pulled at the brim of her ball cap, and bit back her immediate response. "Kelly, please. I can't be seen here."

"Well where would you be more comfortable talking?" she demanded to know.

Sabrina shot another nervous glance back out towards the street. "I really don't have time for this. All I want to tell you I already have. Keep away from here, and keep away from me."

"Sabrina, what the hell are you playing at?" Kelly's confusion was fast being replaced by a sense of frustration. "Don't stand there and lie to me, and say that's it's nothing. Normal people do not spend their lives being followed around by a couple of mean looking thugs... Oh yes, I saw them."

Kelly watched as her friend's eyes immediately darted to look back at the end of the hallway; as though expecting the two men to materialise there. "Whatever's going on let me help."

"Just go. I'll meet up with you later. I promise."

Kelly shook her head, failing to understand. "I let you walk away now, and who's to say that you'll actually make the effort to keep your promise?" Kelly looked levelly at her friend. "Right now, I'm not certain that you'd honour your word."

The words struck their intended target, and Kelly saw the hurt expression on her friend's face. She watched as Bri reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen. Placing it between her teeth, she delved into her pockets again, hunting around for something to write on. Finally finding a screwed up receipt, she smoothed it out and started scratching out an address. "I'll be here about eight tonight," she spoke quickly, pushing the paper into Kelly's hands. "Be careful when you get into the neighbourhood," she glanced quickly at the clothes that her friend was wearing. "And if you have something a little less ... well ... striking... you might want to consider wearing that."

She turned to move, but Kelly reached out for her again. "I'll have to tell Kris..." she broke off as Sabrina shook her head.

"I don't want you to talk to Kris or Bos, or anyone else about this," she insisted. She turned to leave again. "And please don't try and follow me now."

Kelly heard the plea in her friend's voice and finally relented. She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "Until this evening then?"

"Right," Sabrina nodded in her direction before turning and heading back towards the main street. As Kelly watched, Sabrina reached the end of the hallway and checked up and down the street, before pulling down on the brim of her battered baseball cap and disappearing off into the crowd.

She watched her go, a mixture of emotions vying for supremacy. She'd imagined that meeting up with Sabrina again would be a cause for celebration, a chance to reaffirm their friendship. She had not imagined that Sabrina would be so off-hand and eager to get away from her. She found herself wondering just what had happened to her friend since they had last met. She glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand and, in the half-light, checked the address; feeling a touch of relief as she realised that there was a proper address written there. She immediately felt ashamed of doubting her friend, but she couldn't fully shake the feeling that there was something wrong.

She folded the paper and slipped it inside her purse, before making her way down the corridor and back out onto the street, careful this time to avoid the garbage that littered the floor.

She never noticed the two men who were watching her every move from the shadows, never saw the way that they pushed away from the wall and tracked her progress as she made her way down the street.

* * *

Sabrina allowed herself to be carried along with the push of people, all aiming to board the F train that had finally pulled alongside the platform at Washington Square. All around her, her fellow passengers had been grumbling vociferously about the delay to the service. She had remained oblivious to their complaints; her mind racing with the events of the past hour. She grabbed at a metal pole for support as the people around her pushed and jostled for a place in the carriage. She ignored the sharp elbows and pointed pushes, as people tried to stake a claim for their own space.

Thoughts were running through her head, and she struggled to order them. Kelly was here in New York and wanting to see her. Her presence was something that she hadn't expected, and still wasn't certain exactly how to deal with. She had to keep Kelly away from Rickard and Gage, and everything that they stood for. It wasn't her friend's problem, and she didn't want her getting involved.

She kept telling herself that Gage's two thugs hadn't seen Kelly. Their interest had been focussed on her, and there was no reason for them to suspect that Kelly had anything to do with her. But whatever happened, Sabrina promised herself, she was going to make sure that Kelly was out of the city as soon as possible.

She closed her eyes as the train slowly pulled out of the station; struggling to pick up speed as it left the relatively well lit station and headed into the pitch blackness of the tunnels. She had decisions to make, and she had to make them quickly. Kelly would be at her door come the evening and she had to decide exactly what she was going to tell her friend. She felt a stab of unease at the fact that she had given away her address – but it had seemed the only way to stop Kelly causing a scene and bringing trouble down on the pair of them. Her address was something that she had always zealously guarded. Rickard of course knew where she lived, but she made it a point not to let anyone else know the location of the place that she called home. It was her one escape from the world that she was mixed up in – and a place that was now becoming less and less secure.

She tried to push her mounting fears from her mind. Her concerns about Murray could wait – the first thing she had to do was get through the evening's meeting with Kelly.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Sorry for the delay, a little busy at the moment. This is actually the scene where it all began... the scene has now changed a heck of a lot, but this is where the story idea started. Thanks for the reviews, it's great to know what you're making of this .**_

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Kelly glanced down again at the address on the scrap of paper she was clutching in her right hand. As they had neared the neighbourhood, the cab driver had questioned her repeatedly about her requested destination. It had taken some persuading to convince the man that she had the right address; and the driver - a native New Yorker - had spent the best part of the journey trying to convince her that there were better parts of the city to visit. She'd tried to reassure the man that she knew what she was doing, but now that she had left the safety of the car behind and was walking down a street where only one in four of the streetlights appeared to be working, she was beginning to have second thoughts.

She'd asked the driver to drop her a couple of blocks away from the address that she'd been given. They'd made better time across the city than she'd expected, and she didn't want to get the meeting off to a bad start by being too early. She kept telling herself that this was the reason, but if she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure why she was so nervous.

It was only three hours since she had seen Sabrina, but the time seemed to have crawled past at an impossibly slow pace. She'd spent part of the time walking around, trying to avoid heading back to the hotel where she was staying. Returning to the hotel would just accelerate the risk of running into Kris or Tiffany, and she wasn't certain that she could stand there and lie to Kris.

Kris; a wave of guilt washed over her again as she thought of her friend. It had only been a month since they had stood in the office and both threatened to quit over the incident with Bill Cord. The past month had been difficult, both of them trying to rebuild the sense of trust that they'd had before, but both knowing that something was still missing in their friendship. And now what was she doing – hiding the truth from her; not something that was going to improve the situation.

She slowed to a halt as she finally reached the correct building. It was almost indistinguishable from the others around it, save for the fact that an unlit alleyway ran down one side of it; a rusting metal fire escape clinging to the brickwork. The building climbed seven stories into the air, and Kelly shuddered to think how many people presently called it home.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the battered panel door, entering into the damp, poorly lit, hallway. The walls were an uninspiring shade of dark green, which only served to add to the sense of bleakness that pervaded the air. The floor of the hallway was barely discernible in the half light, but Kelly could imagine the stains and marks that she felt certain were coating the uncarpeted stone floor.

She did her best to ignore the heads that turned in her direction as she made her way into the building, and concentrated all her attentions on the main staircase that lay ahead.

Half a dozen young men were standing in a huddled group in the shadow of the stairwell; it didn't take much imagination to work out what they were doing there, and Kelly hoped that her lack of attention to them would mean that they in turn would ignore her.

She let out the breath she was holding as she reached the top of the first flight of stairs, with nothing more than a few low whistles aimed in her direction. She turned the bend in the staircase and noted with trepidation the way that the light levels lowered even further. There were light fittings in the ceiling at regular intervals, but the crunching of glass beneath her feet revealed the reason for the stygian gloom.

She reached out for the banister; relieved that her frozen fingers were encased in warm wool. She didn't want to think about the things that were likely to be coating the surface of the wood.

She made her way cautiously up the next flight, pausing on the second floor for a few moments – waiting to check that the huddled shape she discovered in the corner of the staircase was nothing more sinister than a homeless man sleeping – before continuing on her way.

She made her way slowly down the hallway; her eyes glancing quickly at every door, searching out 317. Every door looked the same; cracked green paint peeling from the surfaces.

She finally found the number she was looking for and was surprised to discover that her heart was starting to beat faster. She was more nervous about this meeting than she was willing to admit.

She tapped lightly on the thin wooden door, and moments later heard the sound of locks being turned. The door opened a crack, and she caught the briefest of glances of her friend, before the door was shut again, and the sound of a chain scraping back reached her ears.

The door was pulled fully open and she was quickly ushered into the small apartment. She watched as Sabrina poked her head out into the dimly lit corridor, checking to see that there was no-one around to watch her arrival.

Seemingly satisfied that everything was ok, the door was shut and the locks and chain were returned to their former positions.

Kelly looked around the small dank apartment. To call it an apartment was something of an overstatement. It was little more than a small one room living space, with a door to one side that presumably led to an even smaller bathroom.

Kelly found that she was shaking her head as she tried to take in the conditions that her friend appeared to be living in.

"What the hell is going on?" the words fell from her mouth before she had time to think. She tried to close the distance between them and draw her friend into a hug, but Sabrina stepped quickly away.

She tried to hide the fact that she was stung by the reaction and studied Sabrina carefully.

Without the jacket and the hat, she could see the changes more clearly. Sabrina's hair was long and unkempt; it was pulled tightly back into a ponytail, and looked as though it hadn't seen a bottle of conditioner, or a sharp pair of scissors in months. Her clothes were creased and ill-fitting, obviously in need of replacing. She shook her head again. Something was very wrong; very wrong indeed. She opened her mouth to say something but Sabrina got there first.

"What the hell do you think you were doing back there on the street?"

Kelly was taken aback by the tone of voice, and the body language that told her that Sabrina was anything but pleased to see her.

"I was wanting to see how you were," she countered, surprised at the edge in her own voice. "After seeing you on the street like that, can you blame me?"

Sabrina let out an exasperated sigh, and turned on her heel; pacing towards the window; the harsh blue light from the neon sign across the street casting her face in sharp relief; highlighting the bruising on her cheek.

"Of all the times for you to come to New York, it had to be now," she muttered beneath her breath.

Kelly watched her friend as she faced the window; her arms folding tightly across her chest. She was weighing up the situation; deciding which way to jump. She'd seen Bri act this way so many times in the past; for a split second it was as though they were working together again. Then she was rudely reminded of the fact that her friend was making a decision about whether to trust her or not.

Since their meeting earlier in the day she'd rehearsed what she was going to say; she'd run through all the things that she wanted to tell her friend, but now as she stood in the chill air of the apartment, watching Sabrina act as though her presence in the city was the last thing that she wanted, she questioned what had happened to their friendship. There had been no smiles upon their meeting up; no warm embrace, nothing but a feeling of cold distance. Kelly shook her head and wondered just what had happened to her former colleague since they'd last been together.

"I can't do this," Sabrina eventually spoke, turning back to face the room. "You have to get out of here, and you have to promise me that you'll keep Kris and Bos out of the way as well."

"Hang on there a minute," Kelly raised her hands, not liking the way that the conversation was getting away from her. "You can't just appear out of thin air like this, living like this, and then just dismiss us as though we were nothing. I want to know what the hell is going on!"

There was a series of heavy thumps on the wall from the neighbouring apartment as the neighbour made it clear exactly what they thought about the level of noise coming out of Bri's apartment.

Kelly watched as Sabrina flinched before motioning for her to lower her voice. She was about to tell her friend that she had no intention of being quiet on the subject, but the look on Sabrina's face made her hold back the thought.

"What is going on?" she repeated the question, her tone much quieter this time, realising that she wasn't likely to get anywhere if she unsettled Bri any further.

"You didn't come to the city looking for me, did you?" Sabrina dodged the question and asked one of her own.

"We were here on a case," Kelly explained. "Seeing you on the street a few days ago was pure chance. We were about to give up on finding you..."

Sabrina's heart sank. "You've been out looking for me?" She looked imploringly at Kelly. "Tell me you haven't been flashing pictures and my name all over the place!"

"I haven't been doing that," Kelly found that there was a note of frustration in her voice. "I don't think that it's unreasonable for me to ask for an explanation about why you're here though."

Sabrina let out a long sigh. "There's nothing to tell." She raised a hand as she saw that Kelly was about to argue with her. "Please believe me when I say that there's nothing wrong."

Kelly shivered in the frigid air, and gestured around the room. "You're living in some two dollar a night dive, and expect me to accept that without saying anything! I thought we were friends Bri; I thought that we trusted each other..."

"This isn't about trust..." Sabrina attempted to argue, but Kelly wouldn't let her finish.

"Isn't it? Then why am I standing here, with you building up a wall between us faster than I can hope to tear it down?" She looked imploringly at her friend. "Level with me here. The last any of us heard, you were in Europe expecting your first child. You can't just..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," It was Sabrina's turn to halt the conversation. "Where's all this storytime theatre coming from? Europe! A baby!" her voice cracked with incredulity. "Tell me you're not serious?"

Kelly fell silent, taking in the complete look of disbelief on her friend's face.

"Tell me the truth then," she pleaded gently after a few seconds. "Tell me why you vanished out of our lives over a year ago without a word, with only a second-hand message through Charlie as an explanation."

Kelly's words seemed to hit their mark as Sabrina held her friend's gaze for a few moments before rubbing a hand across her tired eyes, and gesturing towards the bed. "Take a seat," she relented. "I really don't have much that I can tell you."

"Well you can start with how long you've been living like this!" Kelly was struggling to come to terms with the fact that everything she had been told about her friend in the past eighteen months was apparently a lie. She felt immediately guilty about the thoughts of abandonment that she'd felt, when month after month had gone by without a direct word from Sabrina. When Bri had disappeared, she had felt as though the original team had finally been broken up. Jill had been the first to leave, but she had always remained no more than a phone call away, and in the first few months after Jill's departure, Kelly had to admit that her phone bill had gone through the roof. She had felt as though she had shared a part of every race that Jill had taken part it; had experienced the joys of the highs, and the despair of the lows. They had all been there for each other – just as they had promised at the academy that they would be. With Bri's departure there had been nothing but a sense of loss. Charlie had been the one to break the news that she wasn't coming back, and in the months that followed, Charlie had become the only source of news, and that news had become more and more infrequent.

She tried to shake that thought out of her head, as she perched on the end of the narrow bed and watched as Sabrina paced back and forth in front of the window.

"How did you know I was here?" she finally asked.

"I didn't. I had no idea you were here until I saw you on the street two days ago."

"Hmmm," the pacing continued. "And you've told nobody else that you've seen me?"

"Only Kris and Tiffany," Kelly replied; instantly closing her eyes and wishing that she could take back the last sentence.

"Tiffany?" Sabrina's voice queried.

"Yeah," Kelly stared down at the threadbare carpet. "She works for Charlie."

There was a pause.

"Ahh... I see," Sabrina's voice was clipped. "I guess I should have seen that one coming."

"I'm sorry," Kelly raised her eyes and sought out her friend. "It's just that Charlie told us that ..."

"...That I was married and expecting a child!" Sabrina's tone again made it clear what she thought of the news. "You think I'd go and get myself married without telling you?"

"You came away and did this without telling us!"

"Touché." Sabrina stopped her pacing and leant up against the wall. "So how are things working for Charlie?"

"They're fine," Kelly replied shortly, knowing that she was just trying to change the conversation. "I'm more interested in finding out what's been happening to you."

She waited for her friend to reply, but Sabrina said nothing.

"You can't just expect me to find you living here like this and not say something!"

"I'm working," Sabrina finally admitted.

"And that work involves you setting people up to have their purses snatched?"

Sabrina frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Tiffany. She spotted you on the street, and the next thing she knew some street punk that you'd just been talking to was making off down the sidewalk with her purse!"

Sabrina winced. "That was Tiffany, huh! Sorry about that; I just assumed she was some undercover narcotics officer."

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "And that made a difference?"

Sabrina didn't reply, and Kelly had the feeling that her friend had just revealed something that she hadn't intended to.

"What sort of work are you doing here?" she asked softly after a few seconds of silence had passed between them.

Sabrina let out a long sigh, and resumed her nervous pacing. "Things are a little hard to explain," she finally admitted.

"Try!"

Sabrina stopped her pacing and turned to stare out of the window.

After a minute of silence, Kelly was beginning to think that she'd pushed too hard.

"Charlie's really not said more to you than the fact that I apparently went off and got myself married in Europe!"

Kelly shook her head, sensing the anger that was radiating from her friend.

"That's what he told us." She bit her lip. "And we had nothing from you to contradict the news."

Sabrina tipped her head back to stare up at the night sky. "And that's the only thing he's said to you?"

Kelly shivered in the frigid air and looked around the small room for a heater. There wasn't one.

"What the hell has been going on?" she asked the question without thinking. She wanted to ask if Bri was perhaps working on a case for Charlie; but was too scared to voice the thought in case the answer turned out to be no.

She watched as her friend shrugged her shoulders, and let out a heavy sigh. "I wish I could explain it to you," she said quietly. "But if Charlie hasn't told you anything, then I'm afraid I can't."

Kelly opened her mouth to protest but Sabrina cut her off. "Please Kelly. Just trust me on this."

Sabrina turned back to face the window and stared across at the building opposite; the bar's neon sign lighting up her face at regular intervals.

Kelly watched her friend for a few moments before opening her purse and seeking out her money as quietly as she could. She slipped all the dollar bills she was carrying into her palm, and folded them in half. There was a plain buff envelope in her purse; it had contained some documents that she'd had to deliver to their client. She pushed the money inside the envelope, and tucked the flap shut. Somehow she was going to find a way of leaving the money behind. If her friend was in trouble, then she knew that she'd not ask for help. She needed to do this subtly.

She looked around at the bare walls of the apartment again. There was nothing personal about the small place at all; no little touches to show that someone lived there. Kelly had the suspicion that every item of furniture she saw in the room was supplied by the landlord.

She rose from her seat on the edge of the bed, wincing as the metal frame creaked in protest. Kelly glanced immediately in her friend's direction but Sabrina didn't react to the sound; it looked as though her thoughts were miles away. Kelly took a pace towards the mantelpiece, and tucked the envelope behind the clock that sat there - the only adornment on the narrow wooden shelf - before stepping back to take up her former position.

"You need to talk to me," she tried to convince her friend. She reached into her handbag again and pulled out a pad and a pencil. "I'll make a note of the hotel we're staying at," she offered. "Get in touch when you feel like you've got something to say."

"Nothing written down," Sabrina spun round. "Don't write anything down. You write something down and that's a link that connects the two of us. Don't write anything down; don't ever write anything down."

Kelly took a step back, surprised at the outburst from her friend. Her hand automatically reached for the scribbled piece of paper that was still nestled at the bottom of her jacket pocket.

"Destroy that," Sabrina immediately realised what Kelly was reaching for. "Burn it; don't just drop it in the trash. Promise me you'll burn it."

"I'll burn it," Kelly assured Bri, concerned by the forcefulness in her friend's tone.

The silence that fell upon the room was shattered by the pounding of a heavy fist on the door.

"What's going on in there," a voice shouted through the thin wooden door. "You have some guest there? You know you are not allowed to make so much noise."

Sabrina shot a look at Kelly, raising a finger to her lips, indicating that she should remain quiet.

"There's nothing going on Murray," she shouted back towards the door. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"It's not me that's worried. Your neighbour; got a complaint about the level of noise coming from your place. Need to check for myself that there's nothing going on that shouldn't be."

Sabrina exchanged a nervous look with Kelly. After a moment she turned and silently lifted up the sash window. It moved with surprising ease, and Kelly had cause to wonder just how often Sabrina had used it as a route out of her apartment.

She moved as quietly as she could across the room towards the window. As she suspected there was a rusting metal fire escape fixed to the side of the wall. Sabrina motioned for her to use it as the thumping on the door occurred again.

"Open this door," Murray's voice reverberated around the room.

"Go," Sabrina hissed at Kelly. "There's a diner on the corner of Grand and Essex. I'll meet you there in a little while."

Kelly looked with trepidation at the rusting fire escape. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"It's safer than me having to explain your presence to my landlord," Sabrina whispered back, all but pushing her friend out of the window. "I've used this route several times. It's perfectly safe."

Reluctantly Kelly allowed herself to be bundled out of the apartment and out onto the fire escape. She swore beneath her breath as she felt the structure move slightly beneath her weight. If Sabrina was lying to her about its safety, then she was going to come back and haunt her friend for the rest of her life.

Grasping onto the flaking metal handrail, Kelly gingerly made her way towards the ground; thankful that Sabrina had not taken a room on the seventh floor.

* * *

Sabrina flinched as the pounding on the door came again; more impatient this time. She pulled down the sash window and made her way over to the door.

"Hang on," she called out as she pulled back on the chain and the locks.

Murray added his weight to the door as Sabrina pulled it open a crack and he forced his way into the room, causing Sabrina to stumble back a few paces.

She watched Murray's eyes as he glanced around the room, trying to spot anything that didn't belong.

"What's been going on up here? Manelli next door said it sounded like there was a party going on."

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. "Manelli hears things," she explained with a shrug. "He's yelling out at all hours that he can hear aliens on the roof. Don't want to go believing a word he says."

Murray regarded Sabrina for a few seconds before grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her none too gently across the room towards the small bathroom.

She yelped as his hand closed tightly around her arm, and struggled to maintain her balance as his long strides took him across the floor of her apartment in seconds.

"There's no-one in there," she hissed through gritted teeth as Murray pushed her against the wall with one hand and threw open the bathroom door with the other.

Grunting in disappointment at the empty room that was revealed to him, he released his grip on her arm and stepped back.

"Manelli isn't one to complain. He says that there are noises coming from this room, then there are noises. I want to know what you're up to."

Sabrina rubbed absently at her arm. "Maybe he heard me singing in the tub," she offered. "I'll grant you I'm not the best singer in the world, but I wouldn't class it as noise." She pulled an expression of mock offence.

Murray shook his head. "I'm not buying it. You live under my roof Mary, you abide by my rules. I say no extra guests in your room, I mean no extra guests ... or I'll be the one to supply them." He paced back across the room and tapped meaningfully on the thin wooden door. "And don't think that this will keep them out. The boys I know are pretty determined."

He glanced around the room again; scanning every surface. "You keep things quiet and you and I will get along just fine. You cause me trouble and I'll give you trouble straight back. You understand me?"

Sabrina nodded silently; seething at the way that he was treating her.

"You're smart Mary. You learn real quick." Murray placed one hand on the door and stepped out into the hallway. "I get the feeling that you and I can reach a better understanding. You just play by the rules and everything will be fine."

Sabrina grabbed her bag from the chair, and hurled it at the now closed door in frustration. It slammed against the frame and Sabrina glared at the blank wooden surface in anger.

It was all getting too much. Murray was getting to be more of a nuisance, and now Kelly was in town and knew where she lived. She glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned when she spotted the buff envelope that was placed behind it. She snatched at it, swearing beneath her breath as she saw the money that was contained within.

It was more than she would normally see in a month. Getting caught with that much on her would only arouse suspicion. She pushed the money back into the envelope and replaced it back on the mantelpiece.

Things were getting too complicated. She had to make her mind up what to do, and she had to make it up soon.


	6. Chapter 6

Kelly turned the cup round in its saucer; not really interested in its contents, but trying to find a way to occupy her hands. The diner was alive with patrons, despite the freezing weather outside. It was as though this small space was somehow set apart from the biting cold that was sapping the energy of the rest of the city's inhabitants. An old jukebox was blaring out some discordant tune, but the locals seemed not to care, and carried on their conversations over plates and bowls of rich smelling food; their chatter almost drowning out the sound of the music.

Kelly felt strangely out of step with everything. She had, as politely as she could, turned away the other diners who had tried to take a space at her table. She was aware that she was now setting herself apart from the others – a noted outcast in a room full of instant friends, but she didn't care. She didn't care if she stuck out like a sore thumb; couldn't care less if the locals had her pegged as someone from outside the neighbourhood, and therefore an easy target. She had things that she needed to work through; and they were things that didn't need the company of a table full of strangers.

She prided herself on the fact that she wasn't one to mope. She'd never played the 'Little Orphan Annie' card to garner sympathy from the world. She'd come to terms with the fact that she didn't have the same sort of extended family set up that most people had, and did her best to just deal with it. If there was a year where she didn't have plans for thanksgiving, rather than sit at home and brood, she made sure that she was out there, doing something for others, filling her day with something. Upon joining the police academy and forming friendships with Jill and Sabrina, She'd found herself a family, and she'd thought that they were always going to be there. Now she had to face the possibility that one of those 'family' members no longer wanted to be a part of her life. It was an idea that hurt.

She had been sitting at the table for over an hour, her feelings of hope dying a little with each minute that passed. It was becoming obvious that Sabrina wasn't coming.

She pushed the cup away from her, watching as the contents splashed over into the saucer.

"Kelly!"

She looked up upon hearing her name – for a moment believing that the voice belonged to Sabrina. She tried to hide her disappointment as she met Kris' concerned expression.

"I've called your name three times," Kris explained, as she pulled out a chair and took a seat, doing her best to ignore the attention she was getting from the patrons at the table behind her.

"I'm sorry," Kelly apologised, as her hands left the cup and she sat back in her chair; her expression one of defeat. "I've just come from seeing Bri."

Kris' first thought was to ask Kelly why she'd not been told about the meeting. She was more than a little hurt that she'd not been kept informed. She knew that there was a strong bond between Kelly, Jill and Bri, but she had thought that she was now a part of that. Her demand for information was immediately tempered by the look of dejection on her friend's face.

She took in Kelly's body language, and realised that the reunion, if it had happened, had not been a good one.

"Did you get to talk to her?" she asked cautiously.

Kelly's eyes rose to meet Kris'. "Oh yes; I spoke to her."

"And..." Kris failed to understand why Kelly was so reticent to talk.

Kelly shook her head. "She's living in this dive of an apartment, and looks as though she doesn't have the money to know where the next meal is coming from."

"What!" Kris' expression was one of shock.

Kelly chewed on her lip thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "She's got bruises on her face, and looks as though she's not taking care of herself." She turned the cup around on the table. "I want to believe that she's just working on a case but ..."

Kris studied her friend's face for a few seconds. "But you're not certain?"

Kelly let out an exclamation of frustration, drawing the attention of the diners at the next table. She waited for their attention to drift away, before she answered the question, her voice a little more than a hushed whisper.

"I hate to say it, but she really doesn't look like herself. She wouldn't tell me what she'd been doing." Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "She got very defensive when I asked about work ... in the end she couldn't get me out of the apartment quick enough."

"You want to call Charlie?"

"And tell him what ... that I think one of his former associates may have had some kind of a breakdown! I can't do that to her Kris."

"So what do you want to do?"

"She told me she was going to meet me here ..." Kelly tailed off.

"Let me guess," Kris supplied the rest of the thought. "She was a no show?"

Kelly reached out for the cup in front of her, and started turning it slowly around in its saucer. "I need to speak to her again. And this time I'm not going to let her get away without giving me a proper answer."

"Right," Kris pushed her chair away from the table. "So let's go."

Kelly looked up suddenly. "Now?"

"I don't see that there's anything to be gained by brooding on the subject. You want to see Bri again. I'd certainly like the chance to talk to her." Kris gestured towards the door. "Let's go."

After a moment's hesitation, Kelly pushed her own chair away from the table and rose to her feet, threading her way through the crowded tables.

The two friends left behind the bright chatter of the diner, and headed out onto the dark street, both pushing their hands deeply into their pockets as the frigid night air swept around them.

Neither one of them noticed the dark sedan that was parked at the side of the road; the driver reaching for the key in the ignition as his passenger exited the car and proceeded to follow behind the two women at a discrete distance.

* * *

Kris walked down the sidewalk, aware of the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air. She'd tried to engage her friend in conversation, but Kelly had withdrawn into herself and refused to give anything other than short one-word answers. She was clearly uneasy about the visit that lay ahead of them, and Kris wished that her friend would share her fears with her.

She glanced around at the buildings that seemed to hem them in on all sides; wondering just what had caused Sabrina to want to make her home in such a neighbourhood. The place looked as though it was in serious need of redevelopment. Many of the lower storey windows were boarded up, or had their panes coated in grime behind heavy metal grilles. Doorways were heavily covered in the spray-painted tag marks of the local gangs, and even in the freezing night air small groups of young men hung around in the entranceways; their quick eyes darting around and taking note of everyone who walked up and down their section of the street.

"Do you think this is wise?" Kris found herself asking, as they passed another doorway and were greeted by a chorus of whistles and catcalls.

"Ignore them," Kelly hissed back; her eyes fixed on their destination ahead.

Kris fought to maintain her cool as she made out the sound of footsteps on the sidewalk behind. Getting mugged was not part of the plan. She automatically tightened her grip on the strap of her handbag. The next intersection was only a handful of metres away, and Kris prayed that whoever it was behind them would turn off in a different direction. She glanced across at Kelly and took in the stoic expression on her friend's face. She wished that she could muster the same fearless attitude towards walking around this particular area.

Kris followed Kelly's lead as she turned the corner and headed purposefully down Delancey. She glanced towards the opposite side of the wide road, where her rental car was parked, and was tempted by the idea of just getting into it and driving away. She pushed the thought down and kept pace with Kelly.

Her senses were assaulted by the smells from the various foodstalls that lined the sidewalk; the street sellers waging a verbal war against the ground floor storefronts, who all appeared to still be open, despite the fact that the evening was drawing in. Kelly seemed oblivious to the music and the shouts that filled the sidewalk, and maintained the same steady pace. Kris turned her head and cast one last look at the rental car; hoping that it would still be there when they returned.

She was so absorbed in taking in the nightlife around her that she almost missed the turn that Kelly made. She quickened her pace to draw level with her friend again. The street was like all the others she had passed in the last few minutes and for a second Kris had the feeling that they'd been walking around in circles. She was about to raise the matter with Kelly, when her colleague stopped in front of a battered green door.

"This is it," she announced quietly. "If you've changed your mind about coming up, I won't blame you."

"I'm coming with you." Kris placed what she hoped was a reassuring hand on Kelly's arm, and waited for her to open the door.

Kelly paused, as though undecided, before pushing open the door, and leading Kris inside.

* * *

Kelly rapped harder on the door; frustrated at not getting any reply.

"Perhaps she's just popped out to the store?" Kris suggested, casting her eyes around at the dark and gloomy corridor they were standing in, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that was growing in the pit of her stomach.

"She looked as though she didn't have enough to buy a subway token," Kelly replied quietly. "I don't think she's really in a retail state of mind right now."

Kris silently took in the cutting words; knowing that they were only spoken out of concern for the whereabouts of Sabrina.

"Hey!" a gruff voice called out to them from the end of the corridor. "What the hell do you two think you're doing? You could raise the dead kicking up a fuss like that."

"I'm looking for the lady who's staying here," Kelly told the man as he approached, refusing to be intimidated by his height and stature.

She watched the way that he stifled a laugh. "Lady!" he questioned. "Don't find many of them around here. Apartment's rented all right though. What do you want with her? Late with a payment for something?"

"She's a friend," Kelly replied hotly.

The man cast his eyes over Kelly. "Seems she keeps mighty good company." He scratched at the two days worth of stubble on his chin. "May just have to re-evaluate the rent charges."

"You the landlord?" Kris stepped into the conversation.

"Uh huh I'm Murray, and what's it to you little lady?" the man asked with a smile, aware of the small group of inquisitive tenants that were quickly gathering behind him.

"As my friend said; we're here to see the lady who lives here. Can you let us in?"

The man shook his head. "This is a security building," he told them, without a trace of sarcasm in his voice. "Can't just go letting complete strangers into people's apartments. Bad for business."

"Would a twenty open the door?"

The man rubbed his chin again. "Forty might swing it."

"Done," Kris told him quickly. "Think you could lose the entourage as well?"

The man turned back to the gaggle of tenants behind him, and brusquely shooed them away, before reaching into his jacket pocket for a heavy bunch of keys.

The two women stepped back out of his way as he approached; the smell of stale sweat and alcohol was almost overpowering in the confined space of the hallway. Kelly found herself wondering again just what had driven her friend to move into such a building.

The man turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, forcing Kelly and Kris to squeeze past him into the room.

Kelly swore beneath her breath. Whilst there had been precious few signs that the apartment had been a home; it was apparent that Sabrina had cleared out. The door to the battered wardrobe hung open, revealing half a dozen plain metal hangers. The small bathroom door was open, and an icy draught swept through the small room.

"I'll bet you a twenty she took off down the fire escape," the landlord told them curtly, moving across the room to pull down the open sash window. "Always the way when rent day is on the horizon."

"Was she a tenant of yours for long?" Kris wanted to know, shivering in the frigid cold of the apartment.

"Couple of months," the man told them with a shrug of his shoulders. "Besides you two, don't recall her keeping an open house." He eyed the pair of them suspiciously. "Are you sure she didn't owe you ladies anything?"

"Don't worry friend," Kelly reassured him. "We won't be expecting you to pay up."

She took a glance around the room, and her eye caught sight of a small brown envelope on the mantelpiece.

"If you'd give us a few minutes," she gestured towards the door.

The man stood firm, his hands thrust deep into his pockets.

"There's the matter of me letting you in here."

"And there's the matter of you renting out poorly ventilated, rat-infested accommodation," Kris replied smartly, reaching for her purse. She drew out the agreed amount of bills and held them out. "Please don't let us keep you."

The man muttered something beneath his breath as he snatched at the notes. Kris half-expected him to push for more money, but finally he turned on his heel and stalked from the room - telling them gruffly that they had five minutes.

Kris watched him go, and then let out a low whistle. "You weren't kidding about this place. It's the pits. What the hell was Sabrina doing here?"

When Kelly didn't reply, she turned to see what had attracted her friend's attention. She saw the small brown envelope that Kelly was tapping against the dresser top. "What's that?"

"It's the money that I left for her," Kelly replied, her tone one of frustration. "It was obvious she needed it; why the hell didn't she take it?" She counted through the notes. "It's all here; she's not touched any of it."

"Maybe she doesn't need it?" Kris offered, but Kelly shook her head.

"She needs it. I just don't understand why she didn't take it."

Kris looked around at the bare walls and shuddered. "Where do you think she went?"

Kelly headed over to the window, and looked out at the rusted metal fire escape. "She was determined that we should keep away from her. I don't think she's going to make it easy for us to find her."

* * *

Kris slammed the door of the car shut and reached for the ignition. The sooner she started the engine, the sooner she could turn the heater on and restore some warmth to her frozen bones.

She felt Kelly's hand close over hers, forcing the keys away from the ignition.

"What are you doing," she hissed at her friend as best as she could through chattering teeth.

"Look," Kelly pointed out of the window towards the street.

Kris freed her hand and slotted the key into the ignition, before turning her attention to where Kelly was pointing. "What is it?"

"Those two men," Kelly indicated two men who were standing in the alleyway at the corner of the block; their collars turned up against the bitingly cold conditions. "I'm sure I saw them earlier."

"What of it?" Kris couldn't understand her friend's fascination with the men, and wanted nothing more than to get back to the hotel and a warm drink.

"Just humour me. Follow them; see where they go."

Kris turned the key in the ignition and gently coaxed the car into life. Slipping it into gear she edged the car forward.

"Take it to the next block," Kelly told her quietly. "I've got a nasty feeling about this."

Kris decided that it was best not to question her friend, and did as she was asked; bringing the car to a stop at the top of the street they'd just visited.

Kelly kept as still as she could, watching the two men as they looked around, before finally splitting up. The taller of the two men, put out the cigarette he'd been smoking - grounding the butt into the sidewalk, before heading down the alley; halting in front of the rusting fire escape at the side of the apartment building they had just left

The other man headed for the main entrance. He stopped at the doorway, and checked up and down the street before pushing on the door, and disappearing inside.

Kelly felt her heart rate quicken as she switched her attention back to the man at the bottom of the fire escape. She watched wordlessly, as he began to make his way up the crumbling metal staircase. She wanted to believe that he was heading to a different floor to the one that they had just left, but she knew deep inside that that was unlikely.

Raising a hand, she wiped away the condensation that had formed on the glass, and swallowed hard as the figure on the fire escape stopped as he reached the third floor. He drew what looked like a metal bar from beneath his coat, and waited ... expectantly.

"Kris," she whispered beneath her breath, reaching back to nudge her friend.

She felt the car move as Kris shifted forward in her seat.

"What is it?"

"Up there." Kelly pointed out the man, and heard the exclamation Kris let out.

"That doesn't look good."

The two watched in silence, waiting to see what would happen. Time seemed to pass at an incredibly slow pace; the occupants of the car, watching mutely the drama that was unfolding in front of them. When the window to what had been Sabrina's apartment was finally pushed open, they could read the agitated body language of the man on the fire escape. He slammed the metal bar he was holding against the top of the railing, and turned to stare out upon the street beneath him.

Kelly found that she automatically shrunk back in her seat, as though expecting the man's eyes to fall upon her.

After a few moments, the man on the fire escape turned back to his companion, and words were obviously exchanged. Replacing the metal bar back inside his jacket, the man turned and headed back down the fire escape – not waiting for his friend, but disappearing off in the direction of the nearest subway station. Moments later the second man left the building, turning the opposite way, before he too melted away into the busy sidewalk traffic.

Kelly sat in silence and stared up at the building.

"I led them here," she finally found the courage to voice the words that had been sticking in the back of her throat. "I led them here. Bri was afraid at my presence in her life, and I didn't understand why. I think maybe she was trying to keep one step ahead of those guys."

Kris rested her hands on the steering wheel, all thoughts of her own discomfort gone. "What the hell is she mixed up in?"

Kelly's eyes remained fixed on the third storey window. "I have no idea...but I think we need to have a serious talk with Charlie."


	7. Chapter 7

Kelly stood at the tall window and looked out over the city. From her vantage point she could look down and watch the traffic as New Yorkers made their way to work. The sidewalks were buzzing with people, all intent on their morning journeys; not one of them imagining that some chance encounter, some unexpected event could throw them out of step with the world completely.

She sighed heavily and wrapped her arms tighter around herself She'd lost track of the amount of time she'd spent standing at the window, watching the world go by. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told her that the promised phone call from Charlie was only another fifteen minutes away. She'd watched the hands of the clock as they made their measured move around the face of the clock, wishing in some way that she could speed up their passage. Now that the time was actually drawing close, she began to get nervous. Doubts were entering her head. What if Sabrina hadn't been telling the truth? What if Charlie already knew what was going on? She pushed the thoughts from her mind as best as she could. There was nothing to be gained from pointless speculation. Soon she'd have the chance to find out some answers.

"You want a coffee?"

Kris' tired voice caused Kelly to turn her head. Kris was standing in the doorway to her room, her hair still un-brushed, one hand raised to stifle a yawn.

Kelly felt a pang of guilt. It had been her fault that the two of them had been awake until the early hours of the morning. She had persuaded her young friend to drive around the Lower East Side for a couple of hours while she scoured the streets for Sabrina. She'd known in her heart that the search was pointless, and she was grateful to her friend for wordlessly humouring her.

After two hours of driving, an emptying gas tank provided the reason for calling off the search. Feelings of guilt had gnawed away at Kelly. Kris had done her best to reassure her that she'd done everything she could, but it had taken a bottle of wine and a long talk before Kelly could finally put her demons to one side for a few hours and be persuaded to get some rest.

Kris pushed a hand through her hair as she made her way into the kitchen area. "Did you get any sleep?" she enquired as she lifted the old coffee pot from its stand and poured away the remains of the previous days brew.

Kelly nodded absently, forgetting that Kris couldn't see her.

"Kel?" Kris' voice floated out above the sounds of coffee-making and Kelly was spurred into a reply.

"I think I managed a couple of hours," she confessed. "I'm sorry for keeping you up so late."

Kris emerged into the living area of the hotel suite and waved away the comment. "What are friends for," she chided. "We'll see what Charlie has to say, and then we'll take things from there."

Her comments were met with a watery smile, and Kris wished that she could do something more to lift Kelly's spirits. The events of the previous night had knocked them both for six, but Kris knew that Kelly was doing her best to put a brave face on things. She was certain that something had happened in that meeting with Sabrina that was being kept from her, but she didn't want to push her friend.

She was prevented from saying anything further as Tiffany entered into the living area, yawning widely.

"Is that coffee I smell?" she asked hopefully as she took a place on the sofa. "I feel as though I need two cups just to get me as far as the shower." She glanced between her two friends, noticing for the first time the slight atmosphere of awkwardness in the air. "You were both back late last night. What happened?"

Kelly and Kris exchanged a look.

"I met up with Sabrina," Kelly admitted. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about it...It's just that I promised her I'd..."

"That doesn't matter," Tiffany broke across her friend's explanation, wanting to reassure her that she wasn't offended. "I'm guessing that it wasn't the smoothest of reunions."

Kelly shook her head. "I'm expecting a call from Charlie shortly. I'm hoping that will help me answer a few questions."

Tiffany raised an eyebrow and exchanged a quick look with Kris. "Charlie? I thought he was still out of the country for another day."

"He is," Kelly confirmed. "I told Bos that this just couldn't wait. He's making a long distance call."

Tiffany kept her thoughts to herself. She thought it best not to upset Kelly this early in the day. From what she'd seen so far, Kelly's former colleague wasn't exactly keen to be found. She was still undecided as to what she thought of the woman. Her experiences so far had done little to make her think kindly of her predecessor.

The shrill ring of the phone broke the silence, and all three girls turned to look at the offending machine.

Kelly felt her heart rate quicken. Suddenly she was no longer certain that contacting Charlie had been the sensible thing to do. There was always the chance that Charlie had news for her that she didn't want to hear; facts that she wouldn't want to listen to or acknowledge.

The phone continued its persistent shrill ring. It was Tiffany who finally spoke up. "You want me to get that?"

Kelly shook her head as she snapped back to the present. "I'll get it." She pushed herself out of her seat and paced towards the phone, feeling the level of nerves increase with every step.

She paused momentarily as she reached the phone, and then picked up the receiver in one fluid motion and placed it into the cradle for the squawk box.

"Good Morning Angel," Charlie's voice filled the hotel suite. "I got your message. Is there something wrong?"

"I should say there was," Kelly replied, not bothering to acknowledge the greeting. "I spoke with Sabrina last night."

There was a long silence from the squawk box on the table.

"You heard what I just said?" Kelly queried, exchanging a glance with the others. "I spoke with..."

"I heard you Angel; I'm just not sure what to say."

"You could start with the truth about why she's here in New York," Kelly told him hotly, ignoring the looks that Kris was giving her; trying to warn her to calm down.

"New York?" There was a long pause on the line before Charlie continued. "What did she tell you?"

"That she was working for you. She implied that she has been working for you since she left the agency." Kelly paced impatiently across the room. "When the hell were you going to tell us about all this?"

"I'm sorry angel; I had no idea that Sabrina was still in New York."

"But you knew that she had been here?" Kelly picked up on Charlie's words. "She was here working for you?"

"Kelly," Kris' voice was quiet, warning her friend to keep her temper under control.

"I'm sorry that I didn't level with you angels," Charlie apologised. "But this is something of a private matter."

"Private matter!" Kelly exclaimed. "When I first saw her, I couldn't believe it. She was living in some rundown apartment, and looking as though she barely had enough to get by on. I don't care what you think this is Charlie; the one thing it isn't now is private."

Tiffany exchanged a nervous glance with Kris. She'd never seen Kelly look so angry before, and wondered just how Charlie was going to respond to the outburst.

"I need you to tell me everything you know," Charlie replied, his tone not changing from its usual calm manner.

"What I know is that two thugs turned up at her apartment last night, and they weren't looking for friendly conversation. If Bri hadn't already bailed, I don't think she'd be alive right now."

There was no response from the squawk box on the table.

"Did you hear what I said?' Kelly demanded to know.

"I heard you angel," Charlie replied quietly. "Do you know where Sabrina is now?"

"No, she was gone by the time we got back there. I don't know where she is now," Kelly admitted "When I spoke with her, one of the only things she said was that she had been working for you. Is that true?"

Kelly shrugged off the restraining hand that Kris placed on her shoulder and stared impatiently at the speaker.

"Sabrina **was** working on a case for me in New York," Charlie admitted quietly. "But that finished months ago."

Kelly's eyes narrowed. "So you admit that you lied to us? All those updates you gave us on Sabrina's life; they were all lies?"

"Now Charlie, you've got to understand that this is something of a shock for us," Kris entered into the conversation.

Kelly glared at her.

"You don't need to apologise for me Kris. In fact if anyone around here should be apologising, it should be Charlie." She swung back to stare at the speaker. "How could you lie to us?" she demanded to know. "Why didn't you tell us what was really going on? Why spin the story about a wedding and a child?"

"Because I knew how you'd react," Charlie answered simply. "This was a highly sensitive case and I needed to make sure that no-one could break Sabrina's cover."

"We're her friends," Kelly countered.

"And I knew that if I told you that she was working for me, you'd all want to help her," Charlie attempted to explain. "This was a matter that needed complete secrecy."

"What was she doing for you Charlie?" Tiffany asked, trying to get the conversation back on an even footing.

There was another long pause, as Charlie deliberated over what to tell the angels.

"A good friend of mine lost his daughter to a drugs overdose two years ago," he finally spoke up. "He wanted the man responsible for selling the drugs that killed her off of the street. I agreed to help."

"Why just ask Sabrina?" It was Kris' turn to demand answers. "Why not the rest of us."

"Sabrina knew the deceased girl," Charlie explained. "They spent some time on the same Army base growing up. It was Sabrina who came to me asking if there was anything she could do."

Kelly was momentarily silenced by the news. She'd not thought about the fact that Sabrina might have gone looking for the assignment.

"What can you tell us about the case?" Kris flipped open the notepad that sat on the desk, and clicked on the end of her pen, wanting to move the conversation along.

"There's nothing I can..." Charlie began to protest, but Kris cut him short.

"Charlie, you've got to understand that we're not leaving this city until we're certain that Sabrina's ok,"

"But she may not even be working on the same case,' Charlie argued.

"Well then, you can give us somewhere to start," Tiffany countered. "If you can tell us what sort of life she was living, we can hopefully tie it in to the life she's living now."

"From what I've seen she's still working on the case," Kelly pointed out, finding her voice again. "Please Charlie; just tell us what you know."

"Very well. The city's drug problem is no secret," Charlie explained. "It's the handful of people who control the supply that are the real problem. The police arrest the small time dealers over and over again, but they are powerless to stop the real players."

"I'm guessing that you had a handle on who one of these real players was?" Kelly's words were still clipped, undecided as yet as to whether she fully forgave Charlie for abandoning Sabrina so easily.

"Helena Peterson, the daughter of a friend of mine, had been working for a man by the name of Warren Rickard."

Kris exchanged glances with the other girls, picking up on the tone in Charlie's voice.

"What happened to her Charlie?"

"Her body was found in a disused building in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Coroner's report stated that cause of death was a massive heroin overdose."

Kris chewed her lip for a few seconds, trying to work out the best way to phrase the next sentence.

Kelly beat her to an answer. "And her father was convinced that his daughter's death was as a result of foul play?"

"Right you are," Charlie replied solemnly. "He approached me, asking if I could put together a team who could investigate Warren Rickard, and find out just what he was up to. In the weeks leading up to her death, Helena told her father that she was under increasing pressure at work; that she was being pressured into doing something that she didn't want to do. She never spelt out what that something was, but her father is certain that Helena would never have willingly touched drugs."

Kelly pulled a face. "But isn't it always the case where the parents are the last to know, or accept what their children are really up to?"

"I understand your caution angel, but in this case I think her father has the right to be suspicious of Rickard. Investigations into him bring up details of a respectable businessman – the sort who puts funds into charitable organisations, and goes out of his way to appear in the newspapers pressing flesh with the great and the good..." Charlie tailed off.

"But this is all smokescreen, right?" Tiffany guessed.

"Right angel. Rickard's income far outstrips the money he could legitimately make from the work that he does. He has another, highly profitable, source of income."

"And you know this for certain?" Kelly's tone was still confrontational.

"This is all gained from the information that Sabrina supplied. She set up a cover in the city and, working with a partner, set about infiltrating Rickard's world."

"Why did you think she'd stopped the investigation?" Kelly was quick to remind Charlie of his earlier comment. "What happened?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Charlie answered. "After a year they were still making little progress, and I was worried about the toll that the case was taking on them. I told them both to get out of there, and to end it."

Kris pulled a face. "I can imagine that that didn't go down well." She caught the expression of annoyance that flashed across Kelly's face. "C'mon Kel, you know as well as I do that Bri only ever argues to win. There's a competitive streak in her a mile wide. I can't imagine that she'd willingly walk away from something that she thought she could win."

Kelly smiled thinly. "You have a point." She turned back to the phone. "Did you check that she really had left the case alone?"

"There wasn't much I could do," Charlie admitted. "If I sent someone in there asking questions after Sabrina, I would only have put her in jeopardy. She told me that she was going to step away from it. I believed her."

"And have you had any contact with her since?"

"No Kelly. She didn't take my decision well. There were things going on at the time that meant that I left the situation alone. What you've told me has led me to think that I may have made an error of judgement."

"I want to stay here and look for her," Kelly declared.

"It's too dangerous," Charlie countered. "Let me use my contacts to look into this first. If Sabrina is still tangled up with Rickard then you could be putting her life in danger by going straight in without understanding the bigger picture."

"You can't just expect us to sit around and twiddle our thumbs!"

"I expect you to listen to what I say, and to realise that your actions in this city – however well intentioned – could potentially lead to one or more deaths. Keep out of this Kelly; keep out of this until I can find out more."

Kelly was momentarily taken back by the tone in Charlie's voice. She'd not heard him so determined before.

"OK Charlie, we'll wait to see what your sources come up with."

"I'll be in touch." Without further comment, the phone connection ended and the three angels exchanged glances.

"Why do I get the feeling that Charlie was only giving us part of the story?" Kris voiced the thought that was nagging away at the back of her mind.

"He's certainly keeping something from us," Kelly agreed. "I say we continue looking for Bri. We keep it low key – searching the streets that we've seen her on before; keeping an eye out for anyone following us..."

"Agreed." Kris turned her attention to Tiffany, who had still yet to say anything. "Tiffany?"

Tiffany looked between her two friends. "I understand your desire to catch up with Sabrina again, but what if Charlie is correct. What if we end up putting Sabrina in danger with our investigations? She seems pretty determined to keep away from us; maybe we ought to respect that."

Kelly shook her head. "You've not seen where she was living," she argued. "You've not seen the bruises on her face. She needs to get out of that situation."

"Charlie didn't even give us a name to work with." She looked at the expressions on the faces of her colleagues. "I'm guessing that he didn't send her in there without first setting up a rock solid cover."

"We've seen her on 42nd on more than one occasion. I say we look for her there, as well as down on the Lower East Side," Kelly countered. She looked levelly at Tiffany. "I get the feeling that you're not with us on this?"

"I'm just worried that you're too close to this for objectivity. If she's still working then I think Charlie has a valid point, you could do more harm than good."

"And if she's not still working…." Kelly found that she couldn't let the matter lie.

"I think you need to take a step back," Tiffany told her honestly. "You've been the one saying that we have to find Sabrina. You've said pretty much nothing else since you saw her." She held up a hand as she saw that Kelly was about to disagree with her. "Charlie has told us to leave well alone; and Sabrina herself seems to be doing everything in her power to keep out of our way. I know that you're angry with yourself because you lost touch with your friend without realising it, but don't let that anger control you and lead you to making a bad decision."

Kelly's eyes narrowed. "You think that's what I'm doing? You think that I'm only worried about my friend because I'm feeling guilty!"

Tiffany shook her head and tried to keep her voice even. "You're concerned about your friend, that's obvious. I'm just worried that you're letting your emotions override your common sense. You lost touch with Sabrina, and then you find that she's here, that Charlie knew about it, and that you are the only one who was kept out of things. In your position I'd be angry too. They're both trying to keep us at arm's length. There has to be a valid reason for that. If you want to help her, then I think you should respect her wishes."

"You didn't see where she was living..." Kelly protested.

"No I didn't, but I don't think that I would have been as affected by it. Where she is now is not your fault. She has chosen to be where she is."

"You don't know that..."

"What did she say to you? She is working on a case..."

"She claims she is working on a case," Kelly corrected.

"Something that Charlie appeared to back up."

"But Charlie didn't know that she was still there."

Tiffany let out a sigh as she struggled to get Kelly to see what she was trying to get at.

"Why are you so angry about where Sabrina was staying?"

Kelly folded her arms. "I thought I'd made that perfectly clear. The place was a dump. She's been living on the poverty line and I didn't ..." she tailed off.

Tiffany sought to make eye contact with her. "**You** didn't what?"

Kelly rubbed at her tired eyes. "I didn't know anything about it." Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes and she tried to blink them away. "Am I such a bad friend?"

"Of course not," Tiffany was quick to try and reassure her.

"But how did I let this happen? How did it get to the point where I lost complete contact with one of my closest friends? I saw her on the street and one of my first thoughts was to wonder what I'd done. I didn't think about what had happened to Bri, I thought about what **I **hadn't done. I thought about my failings."

"This was a situation that you had no control over. Sabrina's disappearance from your life and from Kris' was carefully planned. You have nothing to feel guilty about. If Charlie tells us that we have to sit back, then I think we should listen to him. We don't go looking directly for Sabrina ... but there's nothing to say that we can't look into the sort of life that she's been living."

Kelly looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

Tiffany held up her hands at the tone in her friend's voice. "I'm not saying that she has necessarily done anything wrong. But if she's taken up a deep cover; there's a chance that she's not acting like the person you know. It's probably best to find out exactly what she's been up to."

"Tiffany has a point," Kris backed her up. "That apartment we saw wasn't the sort of place that the Bri we know would stay in by choice. Let's try and find out about the sort of character she's taken on. She's had no back up, no-one to offer her support."

"What about the 'partner' that Charlie mentioned?" Kelly wanted answers. "Where the hell are they?"

Kris shrugged her shoulders. 'Maybe they got out of there when they were told to," she suggested.

"I'm guessing there was no chance that they were sharing that apartment with her?" Tiffany asked the question, trying to look at the situation from a neutral angle.

Kelly shook her head. "There was barely anything in that place when I saw Bri – certainly not enough belongings for two people. Whoever it was she was working with is not there now." She paused and thought back to the conversation with Charlie. "He didn't elaborate on that at all, did he?" she remarked. "He made mention of the fact that she was working with a partner, but then said nothing more."

Kris placed a hand on her friend's arm. "I think you're looking for mysteries that aren't there," she told her gently. "Next time Charlie calls in we'll make enquiries."

Tiffany nodded. "Agreed. In the meantime I'm going to head down to the local precinct house. If Sabrina's been mixing with the wrong crowd then she may have earned herself a rap sheet."

Kelly shook her head. "As you said we don't even know what name she's living under. Asking vague questions is just going to arouse suspicion."

Tiffany mulled over the problem for a few moments. "So I'm a reporter from a magazine in Boston; I'm looking into the drug problem in the city – trying to understand what drives people to get into these sorts of situations. I'm sure that I can make a couple of phone calls back home and set that up. If nothing else, it would help to give us a better picture of the sort of circles that she's been moving in."

Kelly still looked unconvinced. "You don't have to do this Tiff; you don't even know Sabrina."

"She worked for Charlie ... she's one of us. That's all I need to know."

Kelly smiled at her friend, appreciating the gesture. "Thank you." She moved slowly across the room, taking up her place at the window again. "I know she's out there somewhere, I just want to be able to do something to help her."

* * *

The diner was buzzing with life. Early morning office workers were jostling for space at the counter alongside late finishing nightshift workers, who wanted nothing more than a bite to eat before they boarded the bus or subway and returned home.

From her place at the back of the diner, Sabrina watched them as they expertly worked their way around one another, all looking to gain what they considered to be the optimum spot to catch the attention of the over-worked and slightly stressed-out waitress.

Sighing heavily, Sabrina turned away from the scene that was playing out in front of her and returned her attention to the cup of coffee that was slowly cooling on the table.

She stared at the contents of the cup, not certain if another shot of caffeine at this hour of the day was a good thing or not. She'd been in the diner ever since bailing out of her apartment the previous night. She was fairly certain that Gage's men were on her tail. With the trouble that had been brewing in the last few weeks, she figured that Gage had now moved onto the offensive. If he didn't know exactly where she lived, then he was at least aware of the neighbourhood.

The safest thing was to pack up and leave. It was a routine that was so well-rehearsed now that it didn't take her more than five minutes to gather together all her belongings and make her way down the fire-escape.

She felt a brief pang of guilt. Kelly would return to her old apartment, of that she was certain. For all her bravado, at the end of the day, Kelly was the one who would keep them together. She would be the one to offer out the olive branch and insist that an argument be solved before the day ended.

She was reminded of the advice her father had given her one night, not long after her marriage. He'd impressed on her the importance of not ending a day with an argument still active. Things had to be talked through, he'd told her; the air had to be cleared. She'd smiled and assured him that it wouldn't be a problem. How naïve she'd been to assume that such a situation would never arrive, would never happen between her and Bill. She'd ignored her father's advice then and she'd ignored it again last night.

Stubborn … that was the problem. Too damned stubborn. She'd always been the one who could let a silence last an eternity – would sit there aware of the awkwardness of the situation, determined not to be the one to break first.

A wave of tiredness washed over her and, with bleary eyes, she glanced up at the clock on the wall. Another ten minutes or so and she could start the hunt for new accommodation. The landlords would be up, and she had just enough money in her pocket to make the rent. All she had to do this time was find a landlord who was less on the sleazy side and not interested in anything more than getting some cash from her at the start of the week.

Things had been so much easier when she'd first reached the city. She'd had help then; someone to share the worry and the workload with. Michael had been great at persuading persistent landlords that it was in their best interests to back off. She allowed herself a slight smile at the memory. There were times when she missed him so much; and this was definitely one of those times. She was over-tired and feeling the pressure of having to permanently try and stay one step ahead of Gage and Rickard. She clasped her hands behind her head and blinked back the tears of frustration that sprang to her eyes. Now was not the time to fall apart. There was too much to do, too much at stake. She took a few steadying breaths, not caring if she was attracting any attention from the other diners. They could think what the hell they wanted. Dropping a few coins down onto the table to pay for the coffee, she climbed out from the booth and gathered her meagre possessions together. There was only one way to even the score for Helena and Michael, and that was to nail Rickard to the wall. One way or another, she was going to see that happen.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Another Tuesday, another chapter. Thank you again for the reviews, they brighten up an otherwise cold part of the UK :)_**

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* * *

_**"What do you mean 'she wasn't home'?"

Gage watched as the two men in front of him shifted their weight nervously from one foot to the other, both exchanging glances – silently trying to work out who should be the one to explain exactly what had gone down.

There was an irony that was not lost on Gage. The men standing in front of him, looking for all the world like two kids being hauled before the principal, were the same two men that had only twenty four hours earlier willingly accepted the contract to terminate the life of a young woman.

He shook his head.

"You were outfoxed again?"

Branning looked to his partner before answering. "She had warning we were coming," he shrugged his shoulders. "It's the only thing I can think of. Her apartment was empty; her stuff had all been cleared out. It was like she knew we were onto her."

Gage tilted his head to one side. "How do you think she knew you were coming? What do you think she did? You think she had a glass pressed up against the outside of this room? How the hell could she know that you were coming to visit?" He slapped his palms down on the table. "You get a little loud; a little loose in the bar Branning? You let a little bragging get the word out on the street?"

"No way, no sir," Branning was quick to try and clear his name. "I didn't go near a drop before the hit. I like to keep my head clear."

Gage stared at the two men for a few moments; hoping that the silence would persuade one of them to offer up some previously withheld information. It took a little longer than he would have liked, but Branning finally spoke up.

"That woman who led us to Thomas' place, she was there just before we were. Maybe she was the reason Thomas bolted."

Gage's face darkened. "Hang on, hang on. Back up a little here. What woman? You guys haven't mentioned any 'woman' to me before."

"Sure we have," Lawson finally found his tongue. "This lady has been hanging around on the street, we saw her exchange a few words with Thomas and figured that following her would lead us where we wanted to go."

Gage drummed his fingers on the table. "I tell you to deal with Thomas; to make an example of her so that Rickard will finally get the message that he can't come onto my patch without suffering a little loss of his own, and what do you do; do you deal with Thomas as I ask? No, you track her girlfriend around town for a while first! Do you have a problem with the tasks that I set you? Do you think that perhaps your quality of life would be better if you were to find alternate employment?"

"No sir," Lawson felt Gage's heavy gaze on him. "We figured that if Thomas was talking to a woman of quality; she might lead us to something even bigger that could hurt Rickard."

Gage sat back in his chair and fixed the two men with an intense stare. "And tell me, just what have you learnt from following this woman of quality around? She's, by your own admission, probably the reason that you missed out on Thomas. I hope for your sakes that this little story is going to have a happy ending."

Gage watched the sideways glances that the two men exchanged, and let out a long sigh.

"Tell me that you at least know who this mysterious woman is?"

The silence was longer this time and finally Gage swore at the two men. "You two are standing here with nothing, aren't you? You've come in here to tell me that you've achieved precisely nothing? I don't want to know about nothing; I don't want to hear about nothing. I want to hear about Mary Thomas being found by the local Police; I want to hear about how long it took them to firm up a positive I.D. These are the things that I want to hear." He glared at each man in turn. "Do you think that you can provide these things for me? Do you?"

"Yes sir," the answer came back from both men.

"Well then why are you standing here wasting time when you should be out there looking for Thomas?"

Branning and Lawson exchanged glances before finally making a move towards the door. They were nearly out of the office when Gage called them back.

"While you're out there, keep a look out for the new company that Thomas seems to have been keeping. Find out what you can about her. It may prove useful. If Thomas is thinking of changing her alliances, then we may have more to worry about."

He saw the look of confusion on the faces of the two men, and simply waved them away. "Just find Thomas and deal with her. I'm hoping for your sakes that you can cope with that."

As the door closed behind the two men, Gage considered what they'd told him. New people on the scene could mean trouble. New people with money behind them could mean major trouble. If Mary Thomas was keeping new company then he wanted to know exactly who they were.

* * *

Sabrina sat nervously in her seat and glanced across the table at Rickard. She'd stopped by to drop off details of her new address, but rather than simply leaving the information with Lewis and getting on with the day's business; she'd been ordered into the main office and told to wait. Rickard made her jump through the same hoops every time that she had had cause to move.

She studied him, watching as his eyes narrowed as he tried to picture the street that Lewis had scribbled down onto the slip of paper. If he didn't like the street he'd insist that she move. She pushed down her instinctive feelings of impatience. Rickard was paranoia incarnate. He had to know every detail of everything that happened to those who worked for him. It was one reasons that he had become so successful. Nothing happened within his organisation that he didn't know about or control. It was also the one thing that had made the undercover operation so hard. Sabrina was convinced that there were details that only existed in Rickard's head. She feared that he was too paranoid to commit certain things to paper, and if that was the case she'd stand precious little chance of being able to bring him down.

"Another new address!" Rickard broke the silence, tapping the small scrap of paper in his hand against the surface of the table, his tone made it clear how he felt about the situation.

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. "I wanted a change of scenery," she explained simply.

"I had a call from your landlord," Rickard told her acidly. "He's none too pleased about the damage."

Sabrina frowned. "I didn't leave a mark on the place. Hell, I barely unpacked."

"Well he's nursing a head full of bruises and demanding money that he claims you owe him for a new door!"

"I don't understand ..." Sabrina glanced around nervously. "What's been going on?" As far as she'd been aware, there had been no contact between her landlord and Rickard; that Murray had apparently called Rickard made her nervous

Rickard caught her look of unease, and smiled. "Oh, be assured, I know Mr Buchanan. I make it a point to know everything about the people who work for me ... and that includes what they get up to when they're not on the clock. He told me all about the two women who came knocking on your door last night ... and about the two thugs who appeared on the scene shortly after."

Rickard drew a slim-line cigarette case from his inner jacket pocket, and popped it open, withdrawing a single cigarette and placing it between his lips. Returning the case, he drew forth an elegant lighter and lit the cigarette; breathing in deeply as the tip caught light, and glowed with a burnished orange. Sabrina watched the practiced routine in silence; knowing that he wasn't finished with her yet.

Rickard tilted his head back and gently blew out the cloud of blue smoke, watching as it twisted and turned its way lazily towards the ceiling.

"Seems you were careless enough to let Mr Gage's associates find you." Rickard drew heavily again on the cigarette. "I had high hopes for you but I don't like sloppy work Ms Thomas; I believe I've told you that before. Sloppy work leads to mistakes. And you've experienced firsthand what happens to people who make mistakes." He bought the burning tip of the cigarette into contact with the small scrap of paper, and watched silently as it caught light, dropping it into the ashtray as it was engulfed in flame.

"I was out of the neighbourhood as soon as I thought they were on to me," Sabrina attempted to argue, but Rickard raised a hand.

"The marks on Mr Buchanan tell me that you made mistakes and were very very careless," he peered at her though the pall of smoke that was beginning to form around him. "I don't appreciate people who let me down."

Sabrina took a slow breath, trying to remain calm. She couldn't very well tell Rickard that it was more than likely that her former work colleagues were the reason that Gage's thugs had become involved.

"Gage's men picked up on my tail a couple of days ago," Sabrina confessed, lacing the lie with a little truth. "I thought I'd done enough to shake them off."

Rickard tapped the end of his cigarette against the edge of the heavy brass ashtray that sat on the corner of the table, before raising his gaze again to focus on Sabrina. "And just how did they find you this time?"

Sabrina pulled a face. "They were waiting for me when I got out of the 7th Precinct. I'm guessing that our friendly neighbourhood cops decided to have a little fun at my expense."

"That's another thing we need to address," Rickard told her, slowly rising to his feet. "You seem to be spending a disproportionate amount of your time with the local law." He drew on his cigarette and blew the smoke in her direction. "Is there something that you'd like to tell me?"

Sabrina tried not to turn away as the smoke settled around her and caught in her lungs.

"It's just a run of bad luck; that's all," she replied.

"Is that what it is?" Rickard queried. "I thought it was perhaps an example of you no longer taking adequate precautions. I thought it was perhaps an example of laziness creeping in."

Rickard circled behind Sabrina's chair, and she had to force herself not to twist round in her seat to face him.

"There is of course another possible explanation for why you've been seen so often in the company of the local law enforcement officers..." He let the suggestion tail off.

Sabrina stiffened, and Rickard smiled at the reaction. "I'm sure you've learnt your lesson," he told her coldly. "I should hate to have to put the expense of another funeral onto the good people of this city."

He waited a moment to see if there was going to be any further reaction. When none was forthcoming, he turned the conversation onto the other reason that he'd wanted to see her.

"Your landlord spoke of two women who came looking for you, he described them as 'a classy couple of dames'," Rickard paused for effect. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Sabrina shook her head.

"According to Mr Buchanan these ladies were very keen to catch up with you. He couldn't wait to tell me all about the money they gave him in return for entry into your apartment. Big spenders for people you claim not to know."

Sabrina held her breath, hoping that Rickard had not been able to trace them.

"Who were they?" the question came again; Rickard's breath hot on the side of her face. Sabrina fought the urge to move away from him.

"I don't know who they were," Sabrina protested. "I bumped into this nosy broad on the street the other day; she was all over me like some charitable rash. She was out trying to save my soul. It was probably her." She turned her head to angle a look up at Rickard. "Probably out salving her conscience. She can sit happily at those hundred bucks a meal joints, if she comes out on the streets once a year and pays off her guilt."

"Then why did your ex-landlord claim that this 'broad' and her friend stated they were friends of yours, and how did she know where you lived?"

Sabrina arched an eyebrow. "Murray! What did you pay him for that 'information'? You offer that greedy jerk more than a dollar and he'll tell you whatever he thinks you want to hear." She let out a short laugh. "Fifty bucks and I bet he'd be willing to say that he rented a room to Elvis!"

"Hey smart mouth, leave the King out of this,"

Both Sabrina and Rickard turned their heads at the comment from Lewis.

"What," he protested. "I still believe."

For a moment Sabrina hoped that Lewis' interruption was going to distract Rickard from his interrogation, but moments later she bit back a cry of pain as Rickard's hand closed tightly around her left shoulder, his fingers digging into her flesh. She shifted on the seat, trying to move away from him, but he only clamped down harder.

"I should hate to find out that you were lying to me," he told her, crouching down, bringing his mouth level with her ear. "I should hate to find out that you were planning on switching your allegiances to another employer. I don't take kindly to people who lie to me." He took a deep drag on his cigarette, and then brought the glowing tip forward, until it was only inches from Sabrina's left eye.

"I'm not lying," she protested through gritted teeth, her eyes smarting from the smoke.

"You'd better hope for your sake that I don't find out otherwise," he paused. "Your 'friend' Michael lied to me, and you know what happened to him."

Sabrina pushed down the memories that rose immediately in her mind; she knew that Rickard was deliberately attempting to unsettle her. The proximity of the burning cigarette concerned her. She had seen Rickard work this play before, and knew that when it came to the punch; he wasn't afraid to carry out the threat.

"I'm not lying," she repeated, as calmly as she could.

Rickard gave her shoulder a final squeeze, before easing his grip and standing back up, his fingers brushing gently across the back of her neck.

He smiled inwardly as he felt her shudder beneath his touch. He caressed the back of her neck.

"What happened to Michael could so easily happen to you."

He felt her try and inch away from him, and closed his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her back. "Tread carefully. Tread very very carefully." He increased the pressure on the back of her neck, before pushing her head forward and releasing his grip.

Sabrina fought against the urge to retaliate. She knew that it was what Rickard was hoping for. He had no qualms about hitting women; she'd discovered that one the hard way, and knew that it didn't take much to set off his hair-trigger temper.

She pulled herself to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster. "I've got deliveries to make," she told him stiffly.

Rickard shook his head as he headed back around the table and retook his seat. "Not today you don't." He gestured towards the seat she had just vacated. "Sit down."

Sabrina frowned, and jerked a finger towards the door. "There are people out there waiting for me."

Rickard took a long draw on his cigarette. "Someone else can do your run today. I have another little task for you." He gestured towards her chair again, his voice firm. "Sit down."

Sabrina reluctantly retook her seat and looked around nervously, wondering just what it was that Rickard had in mind.

Rickard saw the unease on her face, and allowed himself a smile. "I have a package that needs to make it to Pittsburgh, and another little package that needs to make its way back here," he explained lazily. "Here to Pittsburgh and back. That's a long drive for one person to make, so I've arranged a little company for you." He watched as Sabrina's eyes darted nervously in the direction of Lewis. "I need Lewis here with me," he told her. "But it's good that you have at least a little respect for what the man is capable of. I'm sending you with Grainger." Rickard glanced needlessly up at the clock on the wall. "Actually, Grainger will be along in a few minutes. You can wait here for him."

Sabrina's heart sank as she realised what Rickard was doing. The trip was nothing more than a way for Rickard to get her out of the way for a few days. Grainger – Rickard's weasely little bag man - would be with her at every step, ready to report back everything that she did. She wouldn't be on her own for a second. She'd never liked the devious little man, and knew that he'd take on his appointed task with an almost missionary zeal. She cursed beneath her breath. There would be no way to get back in touch with Kelly; no way of warning her to keep away from her old apartment, to keep away from the Lower East Side. Her vanishing act was meant to keep Kelly away from her, but now she had no way of warning her that Rickard was on her tail. If anything happened to Kelly or Kris because of their association with her, then she'd never forgive herself.

"Penny for them!" Rickard's voice snapped her back to reality. There was nothing she could do to help the others for the moment. She had to believe that they'd keep out of trouble for a few days. When she was back; then she'd have to get through to them, or if it came to it, ring Charlie. Things were in danger of spinning out of control.

"From the sounds of things you've attracted the ire of Mr Gage – not to mention these so-called charity ladies," Rickard's words cut across her thoughts. "A little trip out of town is just what you need to take the heat off. I'm doing you a favour Mary, I'm sure you can see that."

Sabrina met Rickard's gaze, trying to work out if he was being sarcastic or not.

"I suggest you get downstairs and meet up with Grainger," he told her with a sly grin, taking a final drag on the cigarette before stubbing it out in the heavy bronze ashtray.

Rickard watched Sabrina carefully as she rose to her feet and headed across the room. He waited until she was halfway through the door before he spoke again. "Know this; I'll be watching you Mary. Everything that you do from now on, every little move that you make, I'm going to know about it. I've decided to make you my special project. Won't that be nice for you!"

There was a pause and then door to the room closed softly behind the departing figure. Rickard turned his attention to Lewis. "I want Ms Thomas followed the moment she gets back. I want to know what she does, and who she talks to."

Lewis frowned. "But we've been through all that," he protested.

"Then we're going to go through it again," Rickard explained patiently. "I don't like surprises. I don't like the idea of faces I don't know asking after someone who works for me."

"You want me to go and see this Murray person?"

Rickard thought about it for a few moments. "That's not a bad idea at all Mr Lewis. I think perhaps we should both go and pay a visit to Mr Buchanan. I'd like to hear his take on the situation personally."

"Personally?" Lewis automatically questioned the suggestion. "Do you think that that's wise?"

Rickard fixed Lewis with a firm gaze. "You want to question my decision?"

"It's just …" he sought around for the right thing to say. "Being seen in the neighbourhood, it might not be the wisest thing."

"I want Gage to see that I'm not afraid of him. I don't need to hide away in an ivory tower. This is my city; I walk where I want, when I want."

* * *

"How long until Charlie gets back to us?" Kris enquired, as she watched Kelly complete yet another circuit of the room.

Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "He wasn't very precise with times." She slapped a hand against her leg in frustration. "I can't just hang around here and do nothing."

Kris understood the frustration that her friend was experiencing. Charlie had not really given them any indication of how long it would take him to find out information about Sabrina. Kelly wasn't the sort of person who liked to sit back and wait for answers to come to her. Kris knew that she'd much rather be out there on the streets doing something practical. She shared Tiffany's concern about drawing attention to themselves and possibly putting Sabrina in danger, but there was surely at least one place where they could look. It would be something to occupy her friend's mind, and stop her worrying. She wasn't sure exactly how much more restless pacing she could cope with.

"Why don't we go and pay a visit to the landlord again?" she suggested casually. "Maybe he can tell us a little more." She watched as Kelly paused mid-pace. "He should be able to give us a name for a start."

Kelly turned to face Kris, her face lighting up. "I can't see that Charlie could complain about that," she reasoned. "If anyone stops us then we're private detectives looking for a lost woman. I'm sure it won't take much to convince that bear of a landlord that we were just sniffing around for information." She shrugged her shoulders. "I had the impression that he'd sell out his own grandmother for a little cold hard cash."

"Tiffany's going to be back soon," Kris added. "She wants to work a little more on setting up a cover. She'll be here to take the call if Charlie rings."

"She's not going to like that we went out without her..."

"I'm sure she'll understand, besides, if we turn up at that place with another person in tow that might just unsettle the landlord." Kelly smiled at Kris and headed off towards her room. "I'll just grab my coat and we'll be off."

* * *

Murray nervously smoothed down his hair as he led Rickard and Lewis along the hallway to the room that Mary Thomas had been renting. It had come as something of a surprise to see a man with Rickard's reputation on his doorstep, but he had quickly recovered his composure and invited the pair of them in out of the cold.

Murray had felt the tension in the air as he led them up the staircase towards the third floor. Rickard killed any attempt at a conversation stone dead, but made it clear that he was impatient for information. It was a relief to finally reach the apartment. Murray pushed open the battered door that was now hanging precariously from one hinge, and led the small party inside.

He heard Rickard sniff with disapproval as he took in the minimal furnishings.

"Not exactly the Ritz, is it?" the sharp suited man noted drily as he paced over to the window, and peered out; taking in the twisting fire escape that led down to the alleyway below.

"I keep a clean building," Murray replied, slightly stung by Rickard's words.

Rickard turned to regard him, a disdainful expression on his face. "I'm sure the roaches are very grateful to you Mr Buchanan. Now scintillating though this little chat is, I'm more interested in the visitors who came looking for Ms Thomas."

Murray's hand immediately went to the large bruise that was forming around his right temple.

Rickard saw the reaction, and smiled insincerely. "Don't worry Mr Buchanan; I'm not enquiring about your recent visit from rent-a-thug... I'm well aware of where they came from, and I'll be dealing with them in my own way in due course. What I'm more interested in are the two earlier visitors."

Murray scratched at the back of his neck. "There's not much I can tell you about them," he admitted. "Not the sort of chicks you'd expect to find in this neighbourhood."

"You stated in your rather garbled phone call that they were, and I quote, 'a couple of classy dames'. Would you perhaps like to elaborate on that a little?"

Murray scratched at his chin. "There's not much more to tell."

Rickard stood in the middle of the bare room and stared down at his perfectly manicured nails. "You're beginning to bore me Mr Buchanan. I've asked a perfectly reasonable question, and I'd appreciate an answer."

"Hey man; there's nothing I can tell you," Murray looked nervously between Rickard and his companion. "And don't go getting any ideas about setting your 'thug for hire' here on me. I don't take kindly to being bullied."

"This is not the schoolyard Mr Buchanan. We are in the business of acquiring information. You have the information that we want, all you have to do is to tell us what you know."

Murray pushed his hand through his thinning hair nervously. "What's the going rate for information these days? A man has to eat after all."

Rickard raised his head briefly to glance in Murray's direction. "Looks to me as though you've been eating enough for two."

"Hey, this is just puppy fat," Murray protested with a smile, beginning to feel as though he was starting to achieve a level of understanding with Rickard.

"Just tell me what you know," Rickard pushed; his voice firm.

Murray tilted his head to one side. "I can't just put the information out there without a little incentive to grease the wheels."

Rickard glanced towards Lewis who was leant up against the far wall. The tall man pushed himself straight, and pulled a knife from his belt. He turned the keenly edged blade over in his right hand.

"Hey hey," Murray held up his hands in protest. "There's no need to get so excitable. You can't blame a guy for trying to make a buck."

"Just tell me what you know, and maybe I'll persuade Lewis here not to cut out your heart, and feed it to the stray dogs in the alley outside."

Murray backed off a pace at the threat, nervous sweat prickling his brow. "There's really nothing to tell," he explained nervously. "As I told you before, two broads came round here asking after their friend. They looked a different class to Mary, so I couldn't quite figure if we were talking about the same person."

"What were the names of these two 'broads'?" Rickard asked the question through clenched teeth; rapidly losing patience with the overweight landlord.

Murray tilted his head to one side. "Aww man, that was yesterday. Can't expect a man to remember every little detail."

"It's the one detail that I'm here for Mr Buchanan. I suggest that you think very carefully before answering a second time."

Rickard glanced again in Lewis' direction, and the man duly took a pace forward; the sharp blade of the knife glinting in the light that was streaming in through the window.

"Ok, Ok, give me a moment," Murray flustered, trying to think back over the events.

Rickard looked at the overweight landlord, and let out an impatient sigh. He nodded in Lewis' direction and watched as the man took another pace forward; the knife blade flashing though the air.

"Garrett ..." Murray spat the name out as the sharp point of the blade moved ever closer to his throat. "Kelly Garrett ... That was her name. I'm sure of it. She was here looking for some friend of hers. I told them that they weren't likely to find someone they'd call friend in a building like mine, but they were insistent."

"My my my," Rickard laughed softly. "A little pressure and you sing like the proverbial nightingale. I'm afraid that presents me with a small problem Mr Buchanan. You see, if those 'broads' were to come back here and ask if anyone else had been asking after their friend ... well I'm rather afraid that you'd be only too willing to tell them."

"Oh no," Murray protested. "I wouldn't say a word ... scouts honour."

"I have a hard time imagining that you brought honour to the badge of the scouts Mr Buchanan. But that's beside the point. I think that you've already more than amply illustrated the way that you are unable to keep a confidence." Rickard nodded in Lewis' direction. "If you'd finish up here Mr Lewis, I'll be waiting in the car."

"Hang on a second," Murray's voice spiked in fear. "I thought we had a deal."

"We did Mr Buchanan," Rickard called back over his shoulder as he exited the room. "However, now the deal has been completed, I'm terminating the partnership with immediate effect."

Lewis smiled at Murray as he returned the knife to his belt. There was a look of confusion on Murray's face, but that was quickly replaced by one of fear as the taller man reached for the handgun that was holstered beneath his jacket.

"I want you to know that it's nothing personal," Lewis told him matter-of-factly as he drew the silencer from his pocket and smoothly began attaching it to the barrel of the gun. "It's just that this is a much more efficient way of working – less blood spatter for me to worry about. And no loud noise to alert the neighbours."

Murray backed away, words of protest falling from his mouth, hoping in some way to persuade the armed man that his life was worth saving. The expression on the gunman's face didn't falter, not one flicker of emotion crossed his face. Murray's words died in the back of his throat as the hammer on the gun was pulled back.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Apologies for the delay._**

**_

* * *

_**Kris' eyes darted nervously in the direction of the derelict building they were passing. Daylight and a glimpse of the sun forcing its way through the heavy white clouds did little to improve her impression of the neighbourhood they were in. Daylight revealed the burnt out cars and derelict buildings that the night-time gloom had hidden from her. It looked as though the area was falling into an advanced state of urban decay and no-one was lifting a finger to stop it happening. The doorways were still home to small groups of young men, who eyed them suspiciously as they made their way along Broome St. Her eyes searched the pile of rubble that covered the ground floor area of the building, her eyes sharp for the rats she fully expected to have taken up residence in the dilapidated building.

Her pace slowed as she made her way along the sidewalk. She reached out and placed a hand on Kelly's arm, trying to slow her friend down.

"What is it?"

Kris heard the impatience in her friend's tone and immediately pointed ahead to the crowd she had spotted gathering up ahead.

"I think we're about to walk into something," she explained.

Kelly's pace slowed and she tried to work out the reason for the gathering. The wail of a siren filled the air, and moments later the crowd on the sidewalk reluctantly began to clear a space to allow the ambulance to pull away from the kerb.

Kelly fought against the urge to race to the building. There was no reason to suspect that the ambulance had anything to do with Sabrina. She had cleared out of the building; she wasn't going to be in the back of the departing vehicle. Logic told her that that was the case; but logic was fighting a losing battle. She felt Kris' hand tighten its grip on her arm.

"We'll go and we'll take a look," Kris told her calmly. "You know as well as I do that Bri has moved out of this building. This is just coincidence."

Kris watched as Kelly nodded her head, and wished that she had believed a single word that she'd just said. Taking a deep breath, she walked closer to the building.

As they drew closer, the crowd began to melt away. The ambulance and the uniformed officers had been enough to interest the neighbourhood, but now that the tape had been torn down from the front of the building and the cops had departed the scene and the show was over, everyone was eager to get back to something more interesting.

Kelly kept her ears open, trying to pick up any information that she could from the muttered conversations that were taking place around her. Most of the comments she heard indicated that whoever it was in the ambulance had it coming. Kelly swallowed hard; hoping that they were not referring to her friend.

She pressed a hand against the battered door of the building, and steeled herself for what was to come.

The hallway was as dark and unwelcoming as it had been the night before, but this time there were no young men hanging around at the foot of the stairs. The arrival of the police had been enough to drive them out into the cold bright sunlight.

Kelly raised her head and looked up the stairs towards the first landing. There was a growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach; a heavy sense of foreboding that she just couldn't shake. She was grateful for the hand that grasped her own and held it tight.

The two women made their way slowly up the stairs. This time no-one ventured out onto the hallway wanting to interrogate the two visitors about their business in the building. The whole place was unnervingly silent.

As Kelly reached the third floor, her eyes caught a glimpse of a strand of blue and white tape that was still stretched across the hallway.

"Oh my God," the words died in her throat as her mind conjured up unwanted scenarios of what might have happened. She felt Kris' hand grab at hers, and she squeezed the hand tightly in return, praying silently that the fears that were filling her head would turn out to be groundless.

She felt a tug on her arm, and realised that she had come to a halt; her legs unwillingly to carry her further down the corridor. She shook her head. "I don't want to see," she forced the words out. "I don't want to see."

"Are you sure it's the right door?" Kris asked the question, hoping that Kelly had made a mistake. "Maybe it's the wrong door."

Kelly shook her head slowly. "It's the right door."

She turned abruptly on her heel and walked back to the stairs. Her right hand gripped the banister tightly, and she felt her legs turn to jelly beneath her. She sat down on the top step and stared blankly ahead. What the hell had happened? She didn't want to think about what the ambulance and the tape across the doorway meant. There was only one logical answer, and it was something that she was desperately trying not to acknowledge. The longer she denied the truth; the longer she could remain believing that Sabrina was fine.

She forced herself out of her reverie as she realised that Kris had been saying something.

"I'm going to go and have a word with the landlord," Kris repeated her statement, certain that Kelly hadn't heard a word that she'd just said. "Maybe he can tell us what's been going on."

Kelly nodded mutely and forced herself back onto her feet; following her friend as she led the way, relieved to be putting some distance between herself and the thin strip of blue and white tape.

* * *

Kris exchanged a glance with Kelly and then rapped on the door again. She could hear the muffled tone of a television from inside the apartment, and knew that someone was home. However long it took, they were going to stay where they were until they got an answer.

The sound of the television was abruptly shut off and through the thin wood partition; Kris could make out the sounds of someone approaching. Moments later the door to the apartment was pulled open and revealed a woman in her late twenties who'd obviously spent a long time crying. Her eyes were puffy, and her cheeks were streaked with the remnants of her mascara.

"What do you want?" she asked through gulping sobs.

Kris immediately felt like an intruder. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "If this is a bad time..."

"Bad time!" the woman spat the words out. "I don't think I've known a time worse than this." She eyed the two women suspiciously. "What do you want? Pardon me asking, just that you don't look like tenants."

"I'm sorry," Kris was prepared to apologise to the woman and make her enquiries elsewhere, but Kelly wasn't so easily put off.

"We saw the police leaving ... and the tape across the doorway upstairs..." She tailed off as the woman's shoulders started shaking again. She was obviously trying to hold back tears.

"Murray," the woman finally pulled herself together. "My Murray. Dead in that apartment." She shook her head. "I just can't believe it."

"What?" Kelly exchanged a look with Kris. She tried to hold her impatience back, but she had to know what the woman was getting at. "It was Murray upstairs?"

The woman nodded slowly before breaking out into fresh floods of tears.

Kris shot a look at Kelly, before wrapping an arm around the woman and leading her back inside her apartment.

Ten minutes later they were sat in silence in the apartment. Kelly had put some coffee on at Kris' insistence, a little stung at the way that her friend was keeping her from asking questions. She watched as Kris began talking quietly to the woman, trying to get her to open up a little about what had happened, and realised that Kris had been right. There was no way that she would have the patience to sit with the woman and work her way round to the subject that she wanted answers to.

"What do you think Murray was doing upstairs?" Kris asked gently.

The woman, who'd introduced herself to them between heavy sobs as Sally shook her head, and dabbed at her eyes again.

"So many comings and goings two nights ago." She looked between the two women. "We didn't have trouble here," she implored them. "Murray kept this place nice. At least he did until **she **moved in."

Another look passed between Kris and Kelly.

"She?' Kris prompted, and Sally nodded again.

"That bitch up in 317. I bet this has something to do with that bitch up in 317," she spat. "Always looking to cause trouble between Murray and me."

Kris exchanged a look with Kelly. She had trouble believing that what Sally was saying was true. She nodded towards the door.

"You seen anything of her?"

Sally frowned, already seeming to lose the thread of the conversation. "What?"

"The woman in 317," Kris prompted. "Have you seen her recently?"

Sally shook her head. "Hi-tailed it out of here a couple of nights ago. Couple of thugs on her tail. They had a go at Murray, trying to find out where she was staying." She stared down at her hands. "Thumped him real good they did."

"Did Murray know?" the question was out of Kelly's mouth before she could stop herself. She shot a look of apology in Kris' direction.

"Why the hell would that bitch leave my Murray a forwarding address; he was my man, she was nothing to him." Sally glared at Kelly.

Kelly held out her hands. "I'm sorry Sally; I didn't mean to suggest that there was anything going on; I just wondered if you might have any idea where ..." she paused as she realised that she still didn't know the name that Sabrina had been living under.

"I don't know where the bitch is, but I sure hope the cops find her." Sally said huffily as she pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. "I told them; told them that he was in Mary's apartment. Told them that it was probably that bitch who killed him."

Kelly exchanged another glance with Kris; this one was one of fear.

"You think ...Mary ... killed Murray?" Kris asked nervously, the name unfamiliar on her tongue.

Sally nodded, reaching into her bag again for a new handkerchief. "It's what I told the cops. Told them how she was always arguing with him; always late with the rent. Always coming and going at all hours." She sniffed loudly and then dabbed at her eyes. "He should never have let her move in here. I told him she was trouble."

"How long had she been here?" Kris asked gently.

Sally lowered her handkerchief and regarded Kris suspiciously. "What's your interest in Mary?"

"Debt recovery," Kelly stepped in quickly with an answer. She caught the look of disbelief on Kris' face, but chose to ignore it. "She owes a lot of people a lot of money," she continued with her explanation, trying to think on her feet.

Sally looked between the two women. "You ladies are debt collectors?"

"Er ... sure," Kris smiled broadly at her. "There's more than one way of getting money out of people."

"We turn on the charm offensive," Kelly embellished the story further. "But we've got a boss who's not going to be happy if we can't give him any information about Mary." She smiled in what she hoped was a sympathetic way. "We sure could use anything you could tell us."

Sally held her gaze for a few moments before pushing herself out of her chair. "I can't promise that I can give you much that's useful," she called back over her shoulder as she made her way to the desk that sat against the far wall. "Murray was never really one for detailed paperwork, if you know what I mean."

She pulled open the end drawer and began searching through it.

Kris took the opportunity to glare at Kelly. 'Debt collectors!' she hissed at her friend in disbelief. Kelly shrugged her shoulders. 'It worked; didn't it!'

Kris didn't have the chance to reply, as Sally announced that she'd found the rent book.

"She'd been here for about three months," Sally told Kris, as she passed her the rent book.

Kris smiled at her. "Thanks for your help Sally. We'll do what we can to catch up with ..." she glanced at the name that was scrawled on the front of the tatty exercise book. "...Mary Thomas. We'll be sure to pass on a share of any bonus we get for recovering the debt."

"Hey, if you find the bitch, make sure that you tell the cops where she is. It's her fault that my Murray is dead. I want her to get everything that's coming to her."

Kris flicked through the school exercise book. It had come as no surprise to find that the 'rent book' wasn't official. There was nothing about the set up that spoke of formal tenancy agreements.

Kelly rose to her feet, and held out a hand to Sally. "We'll be in touch."

Sally eyed the book that Kris was holding onto. "It don't say so in there, but Mary owed a couple of weeks of back rent..." she let sentence tail off, glancing from Kelly to Kris.

Kris forced an understanding smile onto her face and reached into her purse, searching for her money. "Fifty cover it?"

Sally bit her top lip, as though wondering whether she could risk pushing the price higher.

Kris caught the look and added another twenty to the bills that she'd already counted out. "You mind if we take a quick look in the room before we go?" she questioned, holding out the money.

"Sorry?" Sally's eyes were fully focused on the money in Kris' hands.

"We'll just be a few minutes," Kelly told her.

"Sure," Sally replied casually as she wrapped her fingers tightly around the money that Kris was offering her. "You'll find a full set of keys in the box by the door."

Kelly was about to thank her for her help, but it was obvious that Sally was no longer listening to them.

Shaking her head, she made her way over to the box that Sally had mentioned, and sifted through it until she found the key that she was looking for.

"We'll be in touch," she reassured the woman again, and then indicated to Kris that it was time to get out of the apartment.

* * *

Kelly tore down the strip of tape that had been strung across the doorway to the small apartment, and slotted the key into the lock. She grabbed quickly at the door handle as she noticed that the door was only being held in place by one hinge.

"You think this was the work of the two thugs we saw, or the killer?"

Kris shrugged her shoulders. "There's a chance that they might be one and the same. They may have come back looking for information..."

"And when Murray wouldn't tell them anything they killed him?" Kelly weighed the argument up for a few moments. "Sally gave us the information we asked for without too much of a struggle. I'm thinking that maybe Murray was silenced to prevent him telling anyone else what he knew."

Kris tried not to let the thought unnerve her and moved forward to help Kelly prop the door open so that they could enter.

She looked around at the bare walls and shuddered. In the cold light of day, the room looked even more stark and depressing than it had done the previous night. She couldn't imagine how Sabrina put up with the conditions.

The threadbare carpet that covered most of the floor showed evidence of the police who had worked the crime scene; their heavy footprints were visible amid the powder residue that the forensics officer had liberally spread around the place.

"Over here."

Kris turned her head at Kelly's call, and was surprised to see her friend down on her hands and knees. She had pushed back the edge of the carpet and was examining the state of the floor.

"What is it?"

Kelly lifted up a half-broken piece of floorboard and peered into the small recess beneath. "I'd say this was a hiding place, wouldn't you?"

Kris smiled and made her way to Kelly's side. She watched as Kelly searched the small space.

"Nothing here now," she reported glumly back to Kris. "But I'll bet you anything that Bri was using it." She looked up. "I'd say that she was still working a case, wouldn't you?"

"The question is what was hidden in here, and who took it?" Kris looked at the expression on Kelly's face. "What if Bri did leave something here, came back for it and was interrupted?"

Kelly shook her head. "Are you suggesting that Bri might be responsible for Murray's death? Come on, you can't seriously believe that?"

Kris folded her arms and walked over to the window. "I don't want to believe it, but at this point I don't think that we can discount anything." She gazed down at the traffic below. "I get the feeling that Sally has all but told the local police that Bri is the killer."

Kelly sat back on her heels, not wanting to give voice to the thought that had just struck her.

"I'm thinking that maybe Bri was the reason that Murray was killed," Kris continued, not noticing Kelly's silence. "Someone came looking for her, and Murray was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Kris turned her head to look at her friend; looking for a reaction. "What's up?"

Kelly attempted to shrug the concern aside. "I'm just worried about Bri. We need to find her again."

Kris tilted her head to one side. "There's more to it than that. Come on, I thought we were going to share everything."

Kelly met her friend's concerned gaze and knew that she had to tell Kris what was worrying her. "What if Bri came back here and someone was waiting for her? What if she was here and Murray blundered in on the situation?"

Kris let out a slow breath. "That's a lot of 'What if's", she tried to reassure her friend. "This is Sabrina we're talking about, you really think that she'd come back here?"

Kelly pointed to the space beneath the floorboards. "If she'd left something..."

Kris shook her head decisively. "That's not Bri. If she cleared out, then she would have made sure that she took everything with her. I know I was the one who suggested she might have come back, but going over things again... I don't think she'd be careless enough to leave anything behind."

Kris waited to see how her words would be received. She was relieved when Kelly pushed herself back to her feet and brushed the dust from her trousers. "You're right... Of course you are. Now I'm starting to get paranoid." She looked around at the sparsely furnished apartment. "Looking at the sort of room that Murray rents out; I'm guessing that he's not exactly a well-loved pillar of the community. Perhaps there's an angle here we haven't even considered."

"You're right," Kris agreed. "But I think we should leave that side of things to Tiff. If she manages to get herself in at the local precinct house, then she may be able to find out a little more about exactly what sort of man Murray was."

"Mmm," Kelly glanced around the room again and shivered in the freezing air. "Let's get out of here. We've got a name to work with... that's something."

Kris hurried over to Kelly's side. "How are we going to explain this little excursion to Charlie?"

Kelly looked at Kris levelly. "We're not. If he doesn't bring the subject up, then I'm not going to mention it... not until he provides us with a little more detail about what's been going on for the past eighteen months."

If Kris was surprised by Kelly's resolute reply then she diplomatically said nothing.

* * *

"Kelly Garrett, Kelly Garrett," Rickard ran the name over his tongue again, trying to recall if it was one that he'd heard before. He didn't want to set the dogs onto her, until he was certain that she wasn't a former acquaintance – making that kind of mistake wasn't something that he wanted to repeat.

He raised his head from his musings as the door was opened and Lewis entered the room.

The tall man shook his head firmly before announcing his news. "No-one seems to know who she is. I put the name out among the usual contacts and no-one's heard anything."

"Hmmm," Rickard sat back in his chair. "Well, whoever she is, she seems to have more than a passing interest in the affairs of Mary Thomas." He sat silently for a few moments. "What I want to know is why Mary is being so coy about the situation. I'll have a few questions asked; see if she is some kind of charity bore."

"And if she isn't?" Lewis let the question hang in the air.

"If she's trouble, then we deal with her and Thomas in the way that we deal with anyone who crosses me." Rickard met Lewis' gaze. "I've worked too long and too hard to let someone like Mary Thomas ruin things."

Lewis cracked his knuckles. "You want me to deal with her?"

Rickard held up a hand. "Innocent till proven guilty Lewis, let's not be too eager, let's just be ready."

Lewis pulled a face. "Sir?"

"If it transpires that Ms Thomas is foolish enough to try and cross me, then I want to make sure that we do more than just nip away the rotten wood. She knows a lot about the set up here; if she's been messing where she shouldn't be messing, I want to make sure that I pull this whole thing up, roots and all."

"Sir?"

Rickard waved the question away. "If it comes down to a disposal job Lewis; I'll give you first pick, don't worry. I remember the job you did on Thomas' boyfriend. I know you won't let me down."

Lewis looked ruefully at Rickard. "I know you said a warning. I just didn't think that he was listening."

Rickard thought it best not to dwell on the subject, and instead switched the conversation back to the present.

"Have you seen the morning paper?" He asked the question knowing full well that Lewis' reading material rarely went beyond the pages of Gun Mart.

The look that he received confirmed his suspicions, and so he simply continued on with the topic. "It looks as though the police are searching for the killer of Murray Buchanan." He smiled inwardly as he watched the way that Lewis tensed. "You did well," he reassured the man. "The police are reported as looking for the tenant who bailed out of the apartment without giving notice." He tapped a hand against his leg. "I think Mary Thomas is going to need all the friends she can get."


	10. Chapter 10

Sabrina drummed her fingers impatiently on the inside of the passenger door. The car was making painfully slow progress. The traffic was backed up because of an earlier accident, and she was in no mood to sit and listen to Grainger whinge on any longer. As she'd expected, the weasly little man had stuck to her side for the duration of the trip, allowing her no chance to try and warn Kelly and Kris that they were potentially in danger. She had tried to suppress the feeling of unease that had been nagging at her from the moment that Rickard had announced the trip, but she had the feeling that Grainger was aware of it. He'd spent the long journey in the car, constantly asking if something was bothering her, and enquiring whether or not they should stop. She'd told him that nothing was wrong, and that the only thing bothering her was the misfortune of having to spend a prolonged amount of time with him. He'd not taken the jibe well, and eventually lapsed into a sulky silence.

She knew that it meant she'd get an unfavourable report from Grainger, but it was a price worth paying. She'd turned her head towards the passenger window and sat there watching the Upper West Side slowly disappearing in the wing mirror, wondering if she'd just condemned her friends to be hunted down by Rickard. She'd tried to push such thoughts from her mind, but as they were once again nearing the heart of the city, fear struck her anew.

Grainger leant on the steering wheel; the blare of the horn joining in with the cacophony that was being thrown up from the other impatient drivers around them. Sabrina jumped at the proximity of the sound and then glared at Grainger.

"Like that's really going to help!" she sneered. "I'm sure all these cars are only stopped here to piss you off."

Grainger glared at her, but didn't say anything, settling for tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

Sabrina sat in the frigid silence for a few minutes before finally deciding that enough was enough. Without saying a word she moved swiftly out of her seat; pushing open the car door and stepping out onto the sidewalk.

"Hey!" Grainger reached out to try and grab her arm, but she was already out of his reach.

"I've got things to do," Sabrina told him sharply. "I'll report into Lewis and then get back to work."

"You're supposed to stay with me until we get to the office," Grainger protested, torn between staying at the wheel and trying to get Bri back in the car again.

"I'll be sure to explain to Rickard how you dropped me off," she yelled into the open car before slamming the door shut with more force than was strictly necessary. She ignored the yell of protest from Grainger and pushed her way into the crowd of people who were making their way along the sidewalk.

She'd spent time drawing up a mental list of the hotels that Charlie was likely to put Kris and Kelly up in. She'd narrowed that list down to a half-dozen; now it was time to see if her theories were correct. If they were still in the city, she had to get them out and fast. Then she could set about trying to salvage what she could from the operation she'd been running.

She glanced back over her shoulder to reassure herself that Grainger wasn't on her tail. It would take him a while to report back to Rickard that she was on her own. That should give her enough time to set up a meeting. She'd deal with the fallout when it happened. There was no point in worrying about it now.

* * *

Gage folded the morning paper smartly in half and placed it down on the table in front of him. Whilst he had never been one to show undue interest in the stories that littered the inside pages of the Post, today was proving to be an exception. Across from the page that proudly boasted of the money that Warren Rickard had just donated to a new youth initiative in Lower Manhattan, another, more interesting story was grabbing his attention. The story only warranted a few lines of print, but it interested him far more than Rickard's blatant piece of self-promotion. Murray Buchanan was dead. Murray Buchanan, the man who owned the building that two of his men had paid a visit to. He wasn't concerned that they might be implicated in the death. They knew better than to do something that foolish. He knew that they had spoken to Buchanan; left him in no doubt that keeping information from them was a very unwise move, but they had not fatally injured the man. Someone had obviously been worried by the visit though. Gage shook his head. Mary Thomas; somehow everything seemed to keep coming back to her. She had been selling where she shouldn't and now was receiving interest from other quarters.

Gage tapped the edge of the paper on the table. Had Rickard ordered the hit, or were the two women that Branning and Lawson had reported back about been involved in some way? They were unknown quantities. He needed to find out who they were and what they were after. If they were looking for a way into making a name for themselves in the neighbourhood, then it was up to him to make sure that they were firmly dissuaded.

Rickard's self-aggrandisement was starting to touch a nerve. The man had come from nowhere; he'd walked into someone else's territory and just set up business. Gage had been content to let that happen when the party concerned was someone else; now that Rickard had made his intentions to expand his empire clear ... a line had to be drawn, and it had to be drawn clearly. Rickard clearly believed himself to be untouchable; one way or another the man had to learn that there were limits to his influence.

The tapping of the newspaper on the table became harder with each stroke; there was one way to make things clear; and that was to start operating an aggressive policy of zero tolerance. He'd missed with his initial plan to take Thomas out of the game; his second attempt at making a point to Rickard could not, and would not fail. Anyone caught selling where they shouldn't be was to be taken out of the picture, regardless of age, sex or experience. The days of letting Rickard get away with what he wanted were well and truly over.

* * *

Tiffany adjusted the collar of her coat, and then headed up the stairs and into the precinct house. She'd run through her cover story so many times that the details of her assumed life came effortlessly to the forefront of her mind. Although she'd been doing this sort of work for a year now, there was still something about lying to the police that just didn't sit comfortably with her. It was one thing to work her way into the lives of people she knew were breaking the law, and to lie barefaced to them – it was something else entirely to be lying to the very people who only a year earlier she could have referred to as colleagues.

She tried to push those thoughts from her mind as she made her way out of the bitter cold and into the relative warmth of the station house. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper she'd made notes on earlier. The officer who'd answered her phone call had been guarded about who she'd be permitted to talk to, but he had provided her with the name of the shift commander and duty sergeant. She glanced again at the names on the slip of paper and committed them to memory.

There was every chance that the visit would turn out to be nothing more than a fruitless fishing trip, but she'd wanted to help in some way. She'd heard at least a little of the hushed conversation that had taken place between her two friends the previous night. She'd felt excluded from their talk, as though she had no part to play in the tracking down of their former colleague, but she'd done her best to hide her feelings. She knew that there was nothing personal in it, and she wanted to show them that, no matter what, she was with them. When she finally had the chance to sit down and talk with Sabrina, then she'd demand answers from the woman as to why she'd set her up to be robbed.

She stepped to one side as a small group of uniformed officers headed past her on their way out to start their patrols; they didn't spare her a second glance, and Tiffany briefly wondered if all the people in the neighbourhood were this unfriendly.

Pushing the thought to one side, she took a deep breath and stepped up to the front desk.

* * *

Kelly felt as though her feet were made of lead. She was tired, she was hungry, and she was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that they weren't going to find Sabrina if she didn't want to be found. She had marked up a map of the Lower East Side with Kris, and the two of them had split the neighbourhood between them; combing the streets and trying to find where their friend might be staying. They had both known that the search was something of a long shot, but after what had happened to Murray the previous day, neither woman wanted to give up on Sabrina. If she was in danger, then they wanted to do whatever they could to help.

The cold weather had only added to the misery of the morning. Kelly had tried to blend in with the locals, but still felt very much the outsider as she paced around the pavements of the neighbourhood, being buffeted by the freezing wind that howled along the length of the blocks.

She'd not broached the subject with Kris, but deep down she knew that they couldn't stay in New York indefinitely. Charlie would be calling them soon, and Kelly would have to tell him that they had been out looking for Bri. She wasn't entirely certain how he'd take the news.

She told herself that there was no way that Charlie could have expected them to completely keep out of the search. He'd not seen the apartment Bri was living in, had not seen the state that she was in. Kelly was sure that if she'd been able to get across just how bad it was, then he'd understand why they had to do something.

If she was honest with herself, she was still smarting at the fact that Charlie had kept Sabrina's whereabouts a secret from her. Wasn't she to be trusted with the information? What was it about the situation that had meant that he couldn't tell her anything?

She tried to push those thoughts out of her head. Tiffany was right; she was wasting too much energy getting angry about something she couldn't do anything about.

She trudged slowly back into the hotel lobby, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't hear the call from the desk clerk. It wasn't until the young man scurried to her side and placed his hand on her arm that she finally realised he was there. She jumped in surprise, and he immediately apologised for scaring her.

"I'm sorry," he told her again, aware what a bad report to the manager could do to his career. "It's just that she was so adamant that you receive this the moment that you returned. I just thought that I'd best tell you about it as soon as I could."

Kelly stared uncomprehendingly at the young man. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she told him abruptly. "I really don't have the patience to deal with this now."

"But you have to," the man told her earnestly. "She told me that it was important. I mean, people like her don't normally come into the lobby, but the look that she gave me ... told me that ...well ma'am, told me that she was serious."

The young man's words were washing over her like so much static, but something about his last sentence caused her to pay more attention.

"Who was here?" she demanded to know. "What did they want?"

The young man reached for the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out a scrap of paper that looked as though it had been torn from a notebook. He pushed it in her direction. "She told me to hand you this. Told me to tell you that it was important."

Kelly looked down at the creased paper in her hand and immediately recognised the handwriting.

She shook the man's hand, and then clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you," she told him warmly. "Thank you."

She hurried away in the direction of the lifts, leaving the young man standing there watching her, wondering what was going on.

* * *

"The mayor of this city firmly believes that he's got some sort of influence over this great city of ours," Officer Jarrett told her with a yawn as he leant back in his chair. "What he fails to understand, but what the rest of the population is well aware of is that no-one could give a rat's ass what he says or does. Hell, the guy on the corner of 41st and 5th who tells anyone who'll listen that the world's going to come to its fiery cataclysmic end before the year is out, has more people believing him."

Tiffany drew a small doodle in the notebook that was balanced on her knee. She'd come into the station house hoping to be able to learn a little something about the area the 7th precinct was responsible for, but all the officer in front of her seemed to want to do was bitch about the mayor, and how out of touch with reality he was. She stifled a yawn, and tried to think of a way to divert the conversation onto something more interesting.

Glancing around the squad room her eyes alighted on the front page of the morning paper. She gestured towards it. "You disappointed your murder hunt didn't make it to the front pages?"

Jarrett let out a short bark of a laugh. "And which murder are you referring to?" he asked her sarcastically. "In this neighbourhood you'll have to be a little more specific."

"Murray Buchanan. As I was on my way in his name seemed to be on the lips of almost every officer."

Jarrett frowned and shifted his position on his chair. "Buchanan was a tenement landlord, renting out low-rate accommodation in the area. I can't imagine that anyone's going to waste much time crying tears for him."

Tiffany tapped the end of her pencil on her notepad. "You got anyone in the frame for his murder?"

Jarrett smiled. "You sure you're not working for one of the local rags?"

Tiffany held up a hand. "Honest. I'm just intrigued that's all. From what I hear the kill was a professional looking hit. You think Buchanan was tied up in the city's drug business?"

Jarrett shook his head and picked up his pack of cigarettes from the desk, drawing one out and lighting it before answering her question.

"Buchanan was a lowlife, but nothing we found suggests that he had anything to do with drugs."

Tiffany waved a hand in an attempt to clear the air of the pall of blue smoke that now hung in the air between them.

"But reports state that Buchanan was executed. A single bullet to the back of the head..."

Jarrett cut her off. "I wouldn't go putting too much store by what you read in the local paper. Reporters are looking for any angle to spice up their story. Officers have spoken with the man's girlfriend. From what she says Buchanan was most likely shot and killed by one of the tenants," he flicked ash into the empty mug that sat on his desk. "Once we catch up with her, we'll see what she has to say. She's not exactly what you'd call a stranger to the department."

Tiffany sighed; this wasn't the first time that she'd heard someone link Sabrina to the killing of Buchanan. She had the feeling that once they'd settled on who they thought the culprit was, they wouldn't go very far in trying to find anyone else.

She was about to ask Jarrett another question when she noticed the way that the officer quickly stubbed out his cigarette and shuffled the papers that were piled on his desk.

"Can I help you?"

Tiffany turned her head at the sound of the gruff voice from behind, and immediately the cause of Jarrett's sudden industriousness became clear.

The new arrival was older than the other officers she'd met; his shirt buttons were straining to contain an obviously ever expanding waistline, and his greying hair was definitely thinning on top. Tiffany briefly wondered when he'd last completed the - supposedly mandatory - fitness test the force insisted on.

She fired a wide beaming smile in his direction and thrust out a hand. "Tiffany Whitmore – Boston Globe," she tilted her head to one side slightly. "Sometimes," she added. "I'm a freelance writer. I go where the stories take me. I'm hoping this one will take me to The Globe."

After appraising her for a few moments the older officer reached out and shook her hand firmly. "Sergeant Thornford. What made you want to come to New York?"

Tiffany shrugged her shoulders. "The drug situation in the city. Boston hasn't had as much of a problem yet, but if trends continue I imagine that it's only a matter of time before we experience the same sort of problems. I wanted to write a human interest piece – look at the way that people's lives are swallowed up and taken over by the drugs trade."

Thornford frowned. "Don't know that we're the people you want to be talking to," he told her. "I'm sure the good people at the ER would be better placed to give you answers."

"What about the murder on your doorstep? Surely that was drug related. One man dead, no-one arrested. I mean, do you even have anyone in the frame for..."

Thornford motioned for her to be silent. "The squad room isn't the place for idle gossip," he advised her.

She arched an eyebrow in his direction. "Well where is the best place to discuss this?"

Thornford regarded her for a few seconds, before reaching a decision. "Follow me," he grunted, gesturing back towards a small dingy office at the back of the squad room. "I've got fifteen minutes to spare. Perhaps I can answer all those little questions you have."

Tiffany bit back her initial response and settled for smiling sweetly at him. "Thank you so much," she told him with as much sincerity as she could muster.

* * *

"So where's Thomas?" Rickard's voice was calm and steady, but Grainger stared down at his shoes, knowing that Rickard was unlikely to be in the understanding mood he appeared to be. He waited as patiently as he could whilst his boss drew a cigarette from the packet that sat on the table in front of him and lit it – inhaling deeply before blowing smoke directly towards him.

"Well Mr Grainger, I'm waiting for a reply. I send you off with Thomas, and yet you return here on your own. Do you have some far-fetched story about alien abduction to present to me? Were you perhaps carjacked en route and too embarrassed to explain the details to me?"

Rickard took another long drag on the cigarette before tapping the smouldering end against the side of the ashtray. "I'm waiting for an explanation Mr Grainger."

Grainger shuffled his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "I lost her when we got back to town."

"I'm sorry," Rickard leant forward in his chair, cupping one hand behind his ear. "You did what?"

Grainger closed his eyes, knowing that Rickard was only starting to toy with him.

"She got away from me," Grainger attempted to explain again. "We were waiting in traffic and she just bolted from the car."

"And you didn't foresee this?" Rickard shook his head. "Mr Grainger, do I need to tell you just how disappointed I am in you? I told you that I wanted you to keep a close eye on her."

Grainger shook his head. "No Mr Rickard. I'm sorry Mr Rickard. She said that she was coming back here to pick up stuff for her route. You want me to go out and bring her back?"

Rickard tilted his head towards the ceiling and blew smoke rings lazily into the air. "Miss Thomas no longer has a route Mr Grainger; I have someone else taking care of that. She is however, as you said, out there somewhere. I want to know where that somewhere is. I want to know what she's doing, and who she's talking to."

Grainger gestured back towards the door. "You want me to get out there and find her?"

"No Mr Grainger, I want you to go home and stay there."

"What?"

"You're no use to me Grainger. Go home. Go home and stay there until I tell you otherwise."

Grainger's head dropped. There was no point in trying to argue the matter with Rickard, he knew that the man just wasn't in the mood to listen. Reluctantly, he turned on his heel and headed out of the office.

Lewis emerged from an adjoining room, and nodded in the direction of the departed Grainger. "You want me to go looking for Thomas?"

Rickard shook his head. "I think we can safely leave Mary Thomas to the local law. It's my understanding that a warrant has already been issued for her arrest." He smiled as he noted the way that Lewis reacted. "Don't worry Mr Lewis, you'll get your chance to have a little fun. Before that I want positive information on the people who were snooping around Mary."

Lewis ran a hand across his chin. "Been asking everywhere. No-one seems to know who they are."

Rickard sighed heavily. "Then I'd suggest that you were looking in the wrong places. I want Grainger out there as well. I want the pair of you going into every hotel in Manhattan if that's what it takes. I want to know exactly who Kelly Garrett is, and why she's so keen to look after the interests of Mary Thomas. If she's looking for an angle to discredit me, then I want her dealt with. I've worked long and hard to get things to where they are now, I will not tolerate interference at this late stage." He glared in Lewis' direction. "I trust you understand me?"

"Yes Sir. I'll get the boys out there looking again," he paused... something that was noted by Rickard.

"You have a problem with my decisions Mr Lewis?" there was no mistaking the tone in his voice.

Lewis shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "It's Thomas," he finally admitted. "She's got the smarts to avoid the local law... I think someone should be out there keeping an eye on her as well." He caught the look on Rickard's face. "If she is working with this Garrett woman then one may lead us to the other."

Rickard sat back in his seat and mulled the thought over. He hated to be argued with, but Lewis had a point. There was a chance that Thomas would evade the local law... and he had earlier made the point that she had to be watched. "Very well," he waved a hand in Lewis' direction. "I want Thomas added to the list. Don't apprehend at this stage, just watch. If she is planning to set me up then I want to make sure that we give her enough rope."

Lewis nodded his head. 'Whatever you say Mr Rickard."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Sorry for taking so long to post parts, hoping that twice this week will make up for it. Huge thanks to those who have the patience to stick with me :)**_

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* * *

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Sabrina pushed on the metal barred barrier in front of her and exited the subway. She was certain without looking over her shoulder that one of Rickard's goons would be behind her. She took the stairs down to the concourse two at a time, and darted her way past the handful of people in front of her. She knew the layout of the Coney Island station well, and rounded the corner heading straight for the public rest rooms. She ignored the look of distain from the woman that she narrowly avoided barrelling into, and headed for the cubicle at the end of the short row.

Locking the door, she hung her rucksack up on the metal peg, and shrugged her arms out of the jacket that she was wearing. She let it drop onto the floor as she undid the straps on the bag and took out the only other coat that she owned. Pulling it around her shoulders, she balled up the discarded jacket and pushed it back into the bag.

She fished a battered baseball cap from her coat pocket and, pulling her hair back into a loose pony tail, pushed the ball cap onto her head. The disguise wasn't much, but it was the best option that she had, and she hoped that it would at least give her a little bit of time.

She pushed up the sleeve of her coat and glanced at the watch on her wrist. Her meeting with Kelly wasn't for another forty-five minutes. If she was lucky then she'd be able to stay hidden in the bathroom stall for at least half of that time, before she had to head out into the bitter cold.

She leant back up against the wall of the stall, and closed her eyes. She could stay here and rest for a little while in relative safety. There were some advantages to Rickard preferring to hire men – they never thought of checking for her in the ladies room

She still wasn't certain exactly what it was she was going to say to Kelly; that was if her friend made the meeting. She wasn't certain that she'd show.

Sabrina had to admit to herself that she'd experienced mixed emotions upon finding that Kelly and Kris were still in the city. Her suspicions regarding Charlie's taste in hotels had been spot on and it hadn't taken her long to work out where they were staying.

Feeling more than a little out of place she had crossed the main lobby of the hotel, and had been relieved to find a sympathetic young man on the reception desk. He'd taken her note without comment and popped it into one of the many pigeon holes that were lined up behind him. Sabrina had followed his movements carefully, making a mental note of the suite number her two friends were staying in.

There had been a part of her wishing to hear the desk clerk tell her that the party she was after had already checked out; she wanted them to be out of the city and away from the danger. She had spent the trip out of town trying not to think about what would happen if Rickard was to work out who they were and where they were staying. She knew that he would have had people on the case; she just hoped that she could persuade Kelly to leave before anything happened.

* * *

There was something inherently forlorn about a funfair during the winter months, Kelly decided, as she turned the collar of her heavy coat up against the bitter wind that was rolling in from the sea. To her left The Cyclone stood silhouetted against the grey sky – the wooden rollercoaster creaking gently as the wind whistled through it. It would be several months before the cars would be bought out of storage, and the sound of shrieks and laughter would once again fill the air as the coaster took passengers along its high-speed twisting track.

Reaching the end of the road; Kelly headed up the ramp and onto the boardwalk, turning right and passing the first of the boarded up food stalls. During the summer months she could imagine that the place would be alive with the buzz of people, and full of inviting smells from the stalls that lined the right hand side of the boardwalk. Now, in the chill of January, the place was virtually abandoned. As she stared down the length of the boardwalk, she could glimpse only a handful of hardy dog walkers, wrapped up against the freezing temperatures.

Pushing her gloved hands into her pockets, she headed on down the wooden walkway, hoping that Sabrina was going to be able to make the rendezvous.

To her left the beach stretched out, the waves crashing relentlessly against the shoreline. There was no-one on the sand now; only a few birds patrolled the fine powder, looking for anything that may have been left behind.

Kelly glanced around, trying to spot where Sabrina might be. Her note had not detailed an exact location, but had told her to be on the boardwalk by The Cyclone at this time. When she failed to spot her, she tried unsuccessfully to quell the sense of disappointment that washed over her. She'd wanted to believe that Sabrina would be here.

As she walked past the next collection of beachfront stalls, a figure darted out from the side of the last stall and skipped into step with her. Kelly forced down the smile that sprang to her lips. It was such a Sabrina thing to do – the little half-skip to match the pace of the person she was with. Kelly doubted that she realised she even did it. She glanced sideways at her friend, relieved to see that there was no sign of fresh bruises on her face.

"I wasn't sure that you'd come," Sabrina finally opened the conversation.

Kelly's mind was buzzing with all the things that she wanted to know; questions piled up in her mind; all clamouring for answers, but she remained silent, enjoying the chance to just be in the company of her friend. When the questioning began; she wasn't certain that she would like the answers that she'd hear.

The two of them walked in silence for a short distance, before Sabrina turned to the left and led Kelly to the end of a small jetty. She leant against the wooden topped railings and looked out over the water.

"You have to leave the city as soon as you can," Sabrina spoke quietly, the wind whipping her hair out behind her, despite the baseball cap.

Kelly barely caught the words, but felt an immediate sense of frustration. She had been hoping that this meeting was going to be different to their last. Sabrina was pulling down the shutters and Kelly was determined that she wasn't going to let her get away with that.

"You didn't come all the way out here just to tell me to leave," she reasoned. "I need a better explanation than that."

"You're in danger," Sabrina told her, as she watched the waves crash against the shoreline again. "I don't want to be responsible for anything happening to you or Kris."

"Kris and I can make our own decisions," Kelly replied firmly. "What we do is up to us."

Sabrina shook her head. "You can't stop the people that I'm mixed up with. They take people out in a heartbeat. There's no conscience there; nothing at all."

Kelly reached up with one hand and tried to push her hair out of her face. "I've spoken to Charlie," she decided that it was best to play straight with Bri. "He told me that you were working for him, but he stated that he didn't know you were still here."

Sabrina remained silent. Kelly tried again, but met the same stubborn lack of response.

"You have to talk to me," Kelly insisted. "Sooner or later you have to talk to one of us." She paused. "It's either you telling me what's happened or I go back to Charlie."

Sabrina sighed heavily. "There isn't time for all this," she protested. "I have to get back soon."

"I'm not leaving till you tell me something at least." Kelly turned and regarded her friend, pushing her feelings of frustration down. "I've missed you," she confessed. "And I want to know what's been happening in your life. You know as well as I do that if situations were reversed, you wouldn't let me get away from here with anything less than an itemised run down of the last eighteen months. All things considered; I'm letting you off lightly!"

Sabrina smiled softly. "There's not much I can tell you, but the long and the short of it, is that Charlie asked me to do him a favour ... Let's just say it was something that I couldn't turn down."

Kelly turned her attention back to the ocean. "Charlie explained a little about the case," she confessed. "And I think I can understand why you took it … but all this, all this since…" she tailed off.

"All this wasn't in the original plan," Sabrina admitted with a humourless smile. "But that day at the office; that day of champagne and cakes ... I knew that that was the last day for me ... Charlie knew it too; that's the real reason he arranged it. A goodbye, without it really being a proper goodbye."

"I still don't know why he couldn't have told us," Kelly failed to keep the hurt tone out of her voice. "It's as though he didn't trust us." She broke off. "And if we're going to talk about trust…"

"What!" Sabrina was immediately back on the defensive, noting the change in her friend's voice.

"I came back to your apartment that night, like you knew I would," Kelly found that she was unable to completely hide the note of reproof in her voice. She hadn't intended getting onto this particular subject so quickly but now found that she couldn't let it drop.

"I don't expect you to understand..." Sabrina began to protest, but Kelly cut across her words.

"After a singularly unpleasant encounter with your landlord, Kris and I left. We'd only just got to the car when you received yet another set of visitors." She turned her head to see if her words were having any impact, but Sabrina's expression was stoic. "One of them climbed up the fire escape, whilst the other, presumably went to the front door. Bri; the guy on the fire escape was carrying what looked like a heavy piece of piping. I don't know what they were after but it certainly wasn't a quiet cup of coffee and a chat." She looked searchingly at her friend. "What the hell are you mixed up in?"

Sabrina's expression remained resolute. "It's nothing for you to worry about," she replied evenly.

"Nothing to worry about!" Kelly exclaimed loudly, her frustration finally getting the better of her. "For heaven's sake Bri, these people could have killed you!"

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. "But they didn't. I was long gone before they showed up."

Kelly struggled to understand the calm way that Sabrina was taking in the information.

"What I want to know is why Burke and Hare were after you in the first place."

Sabrina shook her head. "Sorry, no can tell."

"Don't shut me out. Not now I'm here."

"This isn't a matter that's up for debate," Sabrina told her quietly. "When this conversation is over, you get back in your car, and back to whatever bought you here in the first place. This is not your concern ... it's mine."

"And no-one else gets a say in the matter!" Kelly's tone flashed with anger.

"No," Sabrina told her firmly; keeping her own temper in check. "I have been working on this for a long time, and I'm not risking anyone else's life in pursuit of it."

"Anyone else's..." Kelly picked up on the word. "Bri; what's been going on?"

"Nothing."

"Sabrina, stop shutting me out!"

"So stop asking me questions that I can't answer. I'm sorry that this isn't the reunion you wanted. I'm sorry that this is the situation we find ourselves in ... it can't be helped; it's an unfortunate piece of timing; that's all. When this case is over, when everything is squared away... then I'll tell you what you want to know."

"So everything is on your say so?" Kelly's anger was mounting. "What about what I want? What if I want to help?"

Sabrina shook her head. "You can't."

"Why? Because **you** say so?" Kelly turned away from the railings. "You don't get to make my decisions for me Bri. I can't just walk away from this without helping you. You can't expect me to."

"You say you want to help me? Well then keep out of my way."

Kelly pushed her hands through her hair. "Stop being so damned impossible," she spat. "You're in trouble Bri, and I'm going to help."

Sabrina let out an exclamation of frustration. "This is not a matter that is open for debate. I'm not going to stand here and have this conversation with you. That's it. I'm done. I'm done with this completely." She turned on her heel and strode away. "I am not going to have anything happen to you or Kris, because of your association with me. That is not going to happen. I am not having this happen again."

"What?" Kelly's words were whipped away by the wind. She watched as her friend walked away from her; trying to understand just what was going on – wondering how the conversation had turned so quickly.

"Wait up." She finally found her voice again, and hurried to catch up with Sabrina. She tried to place a hand on her friend's arm but it was brusquely shrugged off.

"I shouldn't have left the note for you," Sabrina admitted. "I should have left things as they were and you would have gone home, and I could have gotten back to the work that I'm doing."

"Sabrina!" Kelly lengthened her pace and grabbed hold of Sabrina's arm, forcing her to stop. "I don't understand what's gotten into you."

Sabrina wrenched her arm away and folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Why won't you just do as I ask? Just this once." Her tone wavered as she spoke.

Kelly's eyes widened at the way that Sabrina appeared to be losing her cool. This wasn't like her at all.

"You stay here and you'll ruin everything," Sabrina told her, stepping away again without warning; striding away down the boardwalk.

"I'm sorry," Kelly called out after her friend, trying to process the things that she had just heard. "I didn't come here looking for a fight. I came because I'm a friend and I want to help. Can't we just talk?"

Sabrina shook her head, wiping angrily at her eyes – determined that they wouldn't betray her. "There is nothing more to talk about." She kept up her brisk pace.

Kelly set off after Sabrina; determined that the meeting wouldn't end with an argument between them.

"I'm sorry," she tried again to make the peace; knowing full well that Sabrina would never be the one to back down. "Try and understand how this feels for me. You won't talk to me; Charlie will only talk in riddles."

She immediately felt as though she'd said the wrong thing. Sabrina stiffened the moment that she mentioned Charlie's name. A few paces further and she came to a stop, whirling round to face her.

"Just what has Charlie told you?" She spat the words out. "What exactly has he told you?"

Kelly was taken aback by the venom in Sabrina's voice

"He's not really said much; just that you were working a case here with a partner and something went wrong."

She felt Sabrina's eyes boring into her. "That's it?" she queried. "That's all he's said?"

"Uh huh," Kelly replied uneasily; not certain just how the news was going to be taken.

"Oh that's just perfect!" Sabrina threw her hands in the air in disbelief and walked a couple of paces along the boardwalk.

Kelly frowned, not understanding the reaction. "Why don't you tell me what's been going on," she encouraged gently, moving after her friend. "It may help to talk a little."

Sabrina let out what sounded like a half-laugh and turned to lean against the wooden railings on the boardwalk.

Kelly moved to stand silently at her side, not knowing if her friend was going to open up to her at all.

She watched the way that Sabrina's fingers traced the outline of some graffiti that had been scored into the wooden surface.

"What did Charlie tell you about Michael?"

Kelly had been watching her friend's fingers so intently that she almost missed the question. She turned her head and was surprised to find Sabrina's eyes boring into her.

"He told us that you were working with someone, but he didn't really go into much detail." She shrugged her shoulders. "I had the feeling that if he had his way, he wouldn't tell us anything about the case."

Sabrina turned her attention back to the ocean, staring out at the waves.

Kelly took in the impassive look on her friend's face, wondering just what was going through her mind. If she'd decided that she didn't want to discuss something Kelly knew that she'd be wasting her time trying to press her for information – her friend was nothing if not stubborn.

"What made you want to meet me out here?" she asked, noticing the way that Bri was already beginning to shiver in the cold; her coat not thick enough to keep the bitter wind at bay.

Sabrina jammed her hands into her pockets and stared out to sea. "I used to come down here with Michael," she admitted. "We'd stand here for hours just watching the ocean." She shrugged her shoulders. "Of course that was in the summer, when it was a little warmer."

Kelly nodded back in the direction of the main road. There's bound to be a little place back there somewhere," she suggested.

"Mmmm, and it's probably got one of Rickard's men sat in it right now, nursing a cup of coffee and just waiting for me to come waltzing in with you."

Kelly regarded her friend for a moment. She couldn't help but think that Sabrina was beginning to sound a little paranoid. There was no reason to suggest that anyone had followed her to Coney Island, and even less reason to believe that Rickard would have someone permanently following her. She let the matter pass without comment, and turned her head to look out to sea.

"What happened to Michael?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her friend shrug her shoulders. "He got careless," she answered hollowly, as though that explained everything.

Kelly decided not to push the matter further.

"What did you talk about with him?"

Sabrina smiled softly; her attention still fixed on the rolling waves that were crashing relentlessly against the beach. "We used to talk about nothing ... for hours."

Kelly waited patiently, knowing that there was more to come.

"We weren't supposed to tell each other anything about ourselves," she explained. "That was part of the deal. If anyone was to work out that we weren't who we said we were, then the less we knew about each other's real lives, the safer the other one would be." Sabrina leant forward, her elbows resting on the wooden topped railing. "We used to stand here and just talk. I don't think either of us really listened to what the other was saying; it was just the chance to let off steam and be ourselves again; to hold onto who we really were."

Sabrina fell silent, and Kelly just stood at her side, not wanting to break the moment.

"Still," Sabrina pushed herself away from the railing, and turned to face the boardwalk. "There's no point in dwelling on the past." She leant back on the railings and watched the dog walkers as they gently ambled past. "There's enough to contend with in the present."

Kelly didn't want to drop the subject. She knew that there was more to Sabrina's story than she was telling, but with the way that her friend seemed so on edge at the moment, she didn't want to press the issue. She had the feeling that Sabrina was finding it harder to cope than she was admitting. Her eyes lacked the sparkle she remembered; now they were ringed with tiredness. Her friend's whole demeanour seemed strangely subdued.

"Where have you been the last few days?" she asked the question gently. "We were beginning to think that you'd skipped town."

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. "Rickard sent me out on a run - busy work. He wanted me out of the way for some reason." She turned to face Kelly. "I was afraid that you were the reason. If he's found out who you are..."

"He hasn't," Kelly told her decisively. "We've been careful."

Sabrina shivered again and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "He's suspicious of me," she confessed. "Wanted to know who you were." She saw the surprised expression on Kelly's face. "My ex-landlord phoned in to say that someone had come round to see me." She swore beneath her breath. "Murray has a big mouth. It's about time someone shut it for him." She took in the expression on Kelly's face. "What? The guy's a pig."

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"About Murray?"

"Kelly!" Sabrina's tone was impatient again.

"Murray was murdered two nights ago," Kelly told her friend, watching as her expression changed. "You didn't know?"

Sabrina shook her head mutely. Kelly watched the emotion on her friend's face and realised that she truly knew nothing about the man's death. She took a deep breath.

"The police think that you're involved in his death."

"What!"

"I thought you knew," Kelly protested. "I thought that was your reason for wanting to meet me here. Murray was murdered in your apartment. Single bullet to the back of the head. Very professional."

She watched as Sabrina wiped a hand across her face before turning away and pacing back and forth.

"Oh boy," she muttered.

Kelly watched her, knowing that her mind was running through all the possible permutations of the news. She watched the way that her friend's fingers tapped nervously against her legs.

"He knows," she finally stated. "He knows." She grabbed hold of Kelly's hands. "You have to get out of here. I'm not taking no for an answer this time."

"What are you talking about? Who knows?" Kelly was struggling to keep up.

"Rickard. He must have gone to see Murray." She clutched Kelly's hands tighter. "You didn't give Murray your name did you? Tell me that you didn't tell him your name."

"Take it easy." Kelly tried to placate Sabrina. "We were only in your building for a short time."

Sabrina waved away her words, not wanting to listen to anything that wasn't the answer to her question. "Just tell me that you didn't tell Murray who you were."

"We didn't tell him," Kelly replied calmly. "We just stated that we were looking for you; and before you ask, no we didn't mention a name."

After a few moments Sabrina finally let out the breath that she had been holding. She let go of Kelly's hands and turned away from her friend, tugging at the brim of her baseball cap and then clasping a hand across her mouth. "Oh thank God," she muttered to herself.

"Sabrina!" Kelly's frustration wasn't letting up. "You have got to level with me. What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm doing exactly what I was sent here to do. I'm getting what I can on Rickard in the hope that it will put him away for a long long time."

"But at what cost to you?" Kelly looked searchingly at her friend. "This is not healthy Bri. You look as though you haven't slept in a week, and when was the last time that you had a decent meal?"

Sabrina attempted to brush the comments away, but Kelly wasn't so easily put off. "Sabrina, you have to try and stand back and look at what this job has done to you. The Sabrina I went through the academy with; the one that I worked alongside for those years with Charlie – she wouldn't push me away without an explanation. She'd make time for me; she'd tell me what was bothering her and let me decide if there was something I could do to help. But this Sabrina..." she let the sentence hang in the air and then shook her head. "I don't know. I'm not even certain that I know you anymore."

"That's part of the point," Sabrina countered forcefully. "I am not Sabrina, not here, not in this city. It doesn't matter who asks. I am Mary Thomas, and I've been Mary Thomas for the past eighteen months. It's imperative that you remember that."

Kelly shook her head. "But beyond that name; beyond that... You are still Sabrina. You're still..."

"No I'm not," Sabrina cut across her words. "I can't afford to think like that. I can't be in some meeting with Rickard and accidentally let slip that I spent my childhood on Army bases, that I've been to Europe and can understand everything the Italian dealers discuss in front of me as though I wasn't there. I can't be that person; it's too risky. I'm Mary Thomas; I moved away from home when I left school, and I've been travelling ever since. That's my reality; it's the only reality I can afford to believe in."

"And what about Kris and I? How do we fit into this little world that you've built yourself?"

"You don't," Sabrina told her firmly. "You don't belong and I can't have you around. You have to get out of here."

Sabrina walked purposefully away. Kelly watched her go, no longer having the energy to continue the fight.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Thank you oh patient few for sticking with me... **_

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Tiffany followed Sergeant Thornford as he led her into the small office at the back of the squad room. It wasn't much of an office and Tiffany had the feeling that it had been many months since anyone had attempted to give it a proper clean. He gestured towards the hard metal chair that was placed on one side of the desk and then closed the slatted blinds that blocked out the view of the squad room.

"What do you want with the likes of Mary Thomas?" he asked gruffly, as he eased himself behind his desk.

Tiffany didn't like the tone in the Sergeant's voice but pushed down her feelings of annoyance and pushed on with the reason for her visit to the station house.

"I met her on the street a few days ago," Tiffany explained. "Seemed like a woman in a bit of a tight spot. Back in Boston they've been trialling a program to help people like Mary; get them out of their situation, and back on track."

"You'd be wasting your time trying to help Mary," Thornford told her as a gulped back a mouthful of black coffee. "She works for a local dealer; one of his little flock of willing sheep and nothing's going to prise her away from him; certainly not a bunch of well-meaning words from you... if you'll pardon my say so."

"What makes you so certain?" Tiffany challenged.

Thornford looked at Tiffany steadily for a few seconds before pushing backwards in his chair, and reaching out for the middle drawer of the battered filing cabinet that sat behind him.

Riffling through the first few files, he finally found the one that he wanted, and walked his chair back to its original position. He flipped open the file on his desk, and sorted through the documents.

"July 16th. Thomas is picked up by one of the patrol cars. The officers spot two street thugs beating up on her. They take her to the ER where she's treated for a fractured arm amongst other things, but she refuses to press charges, and less than a week later is spotted back on Rivington in the company of the same thugs, all pally pally again." Thornford pushed the sheet of paper in Tiffany's direction.

"October 9th. She's admitted to hospital again, this time is kept in. Reports came into the station of something going down on Seaton. Patrol car was despatched and found Thomas and her boyfriend beaten to a bloody pulp in a derelict building. Thomas stays in till she's fit enough to make a break for it. The boyfriend, not so lucky, dies of his injuries by the time he gets to the ER."

Thornford again pushed the documents in Tiffany's direction, and she accepted them wordlessly.

"See," Thornford continued. "She's just not worth wasting your time on. All she knows is the thugs and dealers that hang around Rivington. She's just gonna keep on running back to them every time. There's just no helping people like that."

Thornford's words buzzed around Tiffany's head but she didn't take them in, she was too busy trying to comprehend what was written in the documents that were laid out in front of her. In plain, perfunctory words, typed neatly onto official documentation, were the details of violence that Sabrina had suffered in the past year. She felt rage grow inside of her at the casual way that Thornford passed off the need Sabrina had had for hospital treatment. He obviously regarded her as someone who was less than a person; someone who wasn't worth worrying about.

Her emotion must have shown on her face as Thornford spoke again. "There's only so long that you can feel any sympathy with people like Thomas. She doesn't want to be helped. We drag her in here, and she can't wait to be back out on the street again. It's just a waste of taxpayer's dollars trying to help people like her."

"Maybe you're not offering the right kind of help," Tiffany replied archly, not able to take her eyes away from the documents detailing the injuries that had been treated.

"We're not here to hold the hands of people who kill others for a living," Thornford told her bluntly. "As far as we can tell she works for a local dealer. We know that he supplies at least half of the Lower East Side; we just can't make anything stick. The most that we can do is routinely pick up small fry like Thomas, and put them through the system. It's like an insect trying to swat an elephant!"

"You pick her up often?"

"Every couple of months or so," he rubbed his hand across his chin. "Drag her down here, think of as many reasons as possible to keep her off of the streets, before finally having to let her out again."

Tiffany shook her head. "Does it do any good?"

"Nope, she's straight back on with her set routine as far as we can tell. She ditches the tail, and then we normally pick up on her a few weeks later. Bring her back in here, and the whole wheel starts to spin again." Thornford tilted his head. "So who is it that she reminds you of? Cousin, old school friend?"

"I'm sorry?"

Thornford held up a hand. "People don't normally get this interested in some low life like Thomas unless they're reminded of someone they know. So ..." he let the sentence drag out. "Who does she remind you of?"

Tiffany studied the mug shot again, as though trying to decide.

"I think it's one of the girls I was at school with; there's just something about the eyes."

Thornford took the photo from her, and studied it himself for a few moments. "Don't let those brown eyes fool you; there's nothing worth saving there. She'll be lucky if she makes it to thirty."

Tiffany sat back in her seat and watched as Thornford tidied the file. "You really think that she had anything to do with Murray Buchanan's death?" She took in the look of suspicion on his face and gestured back towards the main office. "I heard some of the guys out there talking. You got a handful of officers in the precinct who are just about ready to see her convicted right now."

Thornford closed the file and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe they're right. Perhaps she owed him money; or he made an advance that she didn't like."

Tiffany shook her head. "But from the reports, Buchanan's death was clean ... professional. You really think that someone like Mary Thomas would be able to manage something like that?"

Thornford shrugged again and folded his arms across his ample chest. "Man's found dead in her apartment; she's nowhere to be found. Don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to work out that Mary Thomas needs to come up with a pretty convincing alibi."

Tiffany's frustration with the man in front of her was growing by the second. He seemed to have the same closed mind as the officers in the main squad room. No-one was going to lift a finger to check whether or not Mary Thomas was innocent of the crime; it was much simpler to believe the circumstantial evidence then to look beyond it for the truth. She opened her mouth to argue with him further, but then realised that she would just be wasting her time.

She pushed her chair away from the table. "Thanks for your time Sergeant Thornford. Glad to see that this precinct's cops are concentrating on the toughest criminals in the city!"

Thornford watched the young woman carefully as she headed towards the exit.

"Hey," he called after her. "If you run into any trouble in this city, don't forget to call on one of my boys. I'm sure they won't be too busy clearing the crud from the street to come to your aid."

Tiffany didn't break pace, but swept from the room.

* * *

Kris sat back in the plush hotel room chair, and let out a heavy sigh as she kicked off her shoes.

"I feel as though I've walked miles today," she confessed. "I need to get sensible footwear for this city."

Kelly smiled as she handed her a cup of coffee. "Maybe this will go some way towards easing those aching muscles."

Kris accepted the mug gratefully. "Thanks." She looked around the room. "Where's Tiff?"

Kelly took a sip of her own drink and re-took her seat. "She should be back soon; her note this morning said that she was planning on working till seven."

Kris watched as Kelly placed her cup down on the table, and immediately looked up at the clock on the wall.

"Something up?"

"What?"

Kris frowned, watching the way that her friend seemed to be unable to settle. She gestured to the way that Kelly was nervously tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair. "Are you alright; you seem a little on edge, that's all." She narrowed her eyes and studied Kelly more closely. "Has something happened?"

Kelly was saved from answering as Tiffany chose that moment to enter the room. She took off her heavy dark coat and threw it over the back of one of the chairs. She smiled a greeting at her two colleagues and headed straight for the coffee pot.

"Whoever thought to put this on deserves a medal," she called out. "I honestly have no idea how anyone in the world got things done before they discovered the healing powers of the lowly coffee bean." She turned around, and for the first time picked up on the slight feeling of tension that was in the air.

"I'm sorry; did I just walk into the middle of something? Should I just go back out and come back later?"

"No, it's nothing," Kelly replied quickly. "I'm just a little tired after trekking around what seemed like the worst part of Manhattan all day." She forced a smile onto her face. "How was your day?"

Tiffany grimaced as she took a seat and kicked off her shoes. "Local police weren't exactly what you'd call forthcoming, I've had warmer receptions."

"I can tell by the look on your face that things didn't go too well," Kris told her good-naturedly. "I'm here if you want to talk to me about it."

Tiffany shrugged off the offer. "Thanks Kris, but it was really nothing more than the local cops not wanting me sniffing around. Not all of them think that I should be allowed in the squad room without an escort."

"They only want to see you in the squad room making the coffee, or operating the phones?" she guessed with a smile.

"Something like that." Tiffany forced a smile onto her face.

Kris took a sip of her coffee and looked between her two friends. They were both keeping something back; that much was obvious. What wasn't obvious was exactly what that something was. She took a deep breath.

"Think of this as a little game," she announced. "I get to ask each of you a question, and you both get to tell me exactly what you've been up to today." She turned at stared at Kelly, realisation dawning. "You met up with Sabrina; didn't you?"

She caught the way that Kelly cast her eyes towards the floor, and slapped her hand down on the arm of her chair in response. "I don't believe it," she was surprised by the anger in her own voice. "I don't believe that you wouldn't tell me about this."

Kelly raised her eyes to meet her friend's angry gaze. "I'm sorry," she apologised sincerely. "I wasn't sure that she'd show. Her note said that I was to come alone, and I was worried that she'd spook if I bought anyone else with me."

"Even when that someone else was me!" the emotion was plain in Kris' voice.

"I'm sorry," Kelly repeated quietly.

"So you say." Kris shook her head. "I've spent all day trying to get an angle on where she might be, and all the time you knew the answer!"

Kelly shook her head. "Not exactly. Bri agreed to a meeting, but I didn't manage to find out where she was staying."

Kelly took in the hurt expression on her friend's face, and knew that she owed her a fuller explanation. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry Kris, truly I am, but I really thought she'd bolt if I didn't follow the instructions I was given."

Kris stared down at the cup of coffee she held in her hands, trying to push aside her own emotions. "How was she?"

"Not good. I still think she's in way over her head on this one." Kelly paused, and tried to order her thoughts. "This isn't just a job to her anymore; I'd say this was verging on a personal crusade. She wasn't working on this alone. I don't know what happened to the man she was working with, but I get the feeling that she's taken his loss pretty hard."

"I know what happened," Tiffany answered quietly.

Both angels turned to look at their colleague. They took in the expression on her face, and Kris found that she didn't want to hear what was going to come next.

Tiffany shuffled uncomfortably in her seat; wishing that she didn't have to be the one to break the news to the others.

"I saw the file that the 7th Precinct has on Sabrina," she admitted quietly. "Among the pages, there are forms that detail the injuries that she's received during the past eighteen months."

Kris opened her mouth to ask what those injuries were, but she forced herself to remain quiet, and waited for Tiffany to continue. A quick glance at Kelly, told her that her friend was having the same difficulty processing the information.

"One of the officers at the station told me that Mary Thomas and her boyfriend were hospitalised towards the end of last year." Tiffany stared down at her hands. "According to the officer both of them had been beaten – he assumed on the orders of whoever they're working for. He went on to say that the boyfriend died of his injuries." She raised her head and met the horrified gazes of her two friends. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but I thought that you should know. To say that it's a personal crusade I would think is something of an understatement."

Kelly sat back in her seat, unable to find any words to express how she was feeling. It was all so hard to get her head around.

"The cops are all ready to hang Sabrina out to dry for the murder of Murray Buchanan," Tiffany went on to explain. "I don't think she's got a single person on her side in this city."

"She's got us," Kris replied automatically, her attention still focused on Kelly who seemed to be finding it hard to accept what she had just heard; willing her friend to say something.

Kelly shook her head. "And Charlie thought that Bri would just walk away from the case! I think I'm beginning to understand where some of her anger is coming from."

She raised her head and saw the confusion on Kris' face. "First Helena dies, and then Michael. Charlie tells her to walk away from the case. Just how do you imagine she took that instruction?"

Kris pursed her lips. "I'm guessing that she wouldn't have seen that Charlie was just trying to protect her!"

"If she was as close to this Michael guy as the Sergeant at the station suggested, then I'm guessing that nothing would have persuaded her to walk away from the case," Tiffany offered. Her eyes widened as a thought struck her. "I wonder if Charlie actually knows exactly what happened to Michael." She looked at the expressions on the face of her two friends. "Think about it. Charlie hears that they could be getting out of their depth, or that someone is onto them… he leaves a note telling Bri to get out of the city…" she tailed off to see if the others picked up on what she was saying.

"Oh my God," Kelly let the breath out slowly. "Bri finds out that Michael has died and then she's told to just get out of there and drop the case. It would be as though Michael's death was all for nothing – something that was just going to be swept under the carpet."

"I think we need to talk to Charlie – find out what his take on the situation is. It could go some way to explaining why Bri is so determined to follow this one through."

"Did ... did the file name the people who did this?" Kris finally found her voice, her eyes searching out Tiffany.

Tiffany shook her head. "Nothing listed on the sheet that I saw, but the Sergeant implied that the men were known thugs on a local dealer's payroll."

"No mention of Rickard by name?" Kelly queried.

Tiffany shook her head. "He was very careful not to mention any names that I didn't already mention to him, but I get the feeling that he must have a fair idea of who runs the neighbourhood."

Kris swore beneath her breath. "If they know who's behind it, why haven't they been arrested?"

"Because Bri refused to lay charges, and simply bolted from the hospital at the earliest opportunity." Tiffany glanced at both of her friends. "I'm going to go back to the station house tomorrow first thing; see if I can find out anything more about this."

"Be careful," Kelly warned her.

"Don't worry," Tiffany reassured her. "I'll be careful."

Kelly reached forward and picked up the paper that lay on the table in front of her. She skimmed through the articles until she came to the one that she'd been searching for. She folded back the page and tapped at the photograph that accompanied the article. "Warren Rickard is attending the opening of a new youth initiative on The Bowery tonight. I say that it's about time I make an unannounced appearance there."

Tiffany looked at her friend levelly for a moment. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"I'm not intending on introducing myself as a detective from LA," she chided.

"But if Rickard's as jumpy as Sabrina suggested…." She let the thought tail off.

"Look," Kelly tried to keep a lid on her temper. "I'm just going to be some guest at a public reception. I'm not going to be giving him any reason to be suspicious of me. There'll be no reason for him to associate me with Bri."

Tiffany shook her head. "I don't like the idea."

"I'm going," Kelly told her firmly. "I want to see this man for myself."


	13. Chapter 13

_**Woo hoo, thanks for the reviews guys. They really do help to drive me back to the laptop. So without further preamble...**_

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Kelly smiled and politely exchanged words with the man who greeted her as she entered the building. She smiled and nodded as he spoke; immediately reprimanding herself as she realised that she wasn't actually listening to anything he was saying. Her mind was still playing back the events of the past few hours. She'd spent the best part of an hour after announcing her intention to attend trying to persuade Tiffany that she was doing the right thing. Kris hadn't made any effort to try and dissuade her. She wanted to believe that it was because her friend was on her side, but she had the feeling that Kris' silence had more to do with hurt feelings than a sense of loyalty. It was a problem that she was going to have to tackle as soon as she could.

Getting into the reception had been easier than she'd imagined. Upon arriving at the spruced up building on The Bowery, the hired help had been only too pleased to show her into the main reception area. The event was obviously designed to get as many of the great and the good through the door, and Kelly reasoned that anyone turning up looking as though they had money was likely to be welcomed in with open arms.

She accepted the glass of chilled champagne from the waiter and nodded her thanks. Taking a sip, she glanced around at the people who were gathered together in the large well-decorated reception area. Even without introductions she could pick out the businessmen who were there to simply press the flesh and improve the profile of their company. They cared nothing for the project that was being launched; they were there for the chance to network and the chance to be seen in the company of an up-and-coming businessman like Warren Rickard.

It didn't take her long to spot Rickard himself. Even if she hadn't had the benefit of seeing his picture in the paper, the attention that he received as he made his way slowly around the room was enough to highlight his status. She cast her eyes over the well-dressed man. There was nothing on the surface that suggested that he was anything other than a respectable businessman. In different circumstances she might have thought of him as attractive, but knowing what she did about him, she was immediately on her guard. He nodded in her direction as he became aware of her attention.

Kelly mentally chided herself for attracting his attention so early. She had been planning to lay low for a little while; working the room for herself and seeing what titbits of information she could gain from the men who had more interest in the free champagne than in keeping their mouths closed. There was nothing to be done about it now however and she plastered a smile on her face as Rickard reached her side.

"Good evening," he smiled, offering out a hand. "I was hoping that someone would come and bring a little light to this room full of suits." He pressed his free hand to his chest. "I'm Warren Rickard – this is my little venture. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

Kelly smiled and accepted the offered hand. "Jill Munroe," the name fell easily from her lips. The way that Bri had reacted to mentions of Rickard's name was enough to make her realise that it wasn't wise to reveal who she really was. She had constructed a cover in the taxi on the way to the venue; trying to come up with a name that would sit comfortably on her shoulders. She wasn't sure just what had made her substitute her cover name with the name of her former colleague, but she'd done it now and there was nothing else for it but to keep the pretence going.

She watched the way that Rickard smiled at her and lowered his head to kiss her hand. He was every inch the perfect gentleman, from his perfect smile to his well-pressed suit he reeked of new money. She shook her head, reminding herself of what Bri had told her about him.

"What brings you to my little gathering Jill?"

She smiled and gestured around at the posters and displays that were set up at strategic points around the room.

"The work that you're doing here is important," she told him warmly. "It's people like you who are going to help to change the country's view of this city."

He regarded her for a few moments. "But this city isn't your city, is it?" He smiled. "Your accent betrays your heritage."

She returned the smile. "I'm a firm believer that your home is where you make it. Business brings me to the city; therefore the city is currently my home."

Rickard raised an eyebrow. "Business Miss Munroe?"

"You find that surprising?"

Rickard had the decency to look abashed. "I apologise, despite my best intentions it appears that I'm not as modern a man as I thought I was."

She waved the apology away. "Think nothing of it; I'm certain that you won't be the last person to be surprised by my career choices. My father was something of a workaholic; the only way that I ever got to see him was by showing an interest in the work that he did. I think I knew the ins and outs of a company audit by the time I was twelve."

The smile on Rickard's face didn't falter. "I'd say that it looks very much as though you inherited your father's nose for success," he paused. "I'm assuming that he was successful?"

Kelly let out a gentle laugh. "Oh he made enough to make sure that I could have the best of everything – I think it's why I'm so impressed with your work here; there aren't enough people in the world willing to help those less fortunate than themselves."

She felt a fraud as she trotted out the phrases, but it seemed to be doing the trick and Rickard was lapping it up. He smiled at her again, and she began to believe that she might be able to exploit his interest in her. She didn't get the chance to test that theory as they were suddenly joined by another man.

"Excuse me Mr Rickard."

Kelly glanced in the direction of the man who had interrupted the conversation.

"Excuse me," Rickard was quick to apologise, bowing slightly in Kelly's direction before taking a couple of steps away to talk with the new arrival. She couldn't make out what he was saying, but he was obviously not pleased to see the man.

This was the first indication Kelly had seen that Rickard was anything other than an upright citizen. A smart suit did nothing to disguise the profession of the man that Rickard was now talking to. Anyone who needed an employee that imposing was someone who expected there to be wolves at the door. Kelly glanced at the man again and noted the fact that the line of his jacket was ruined by the obvious presence of a shoulder holster. Here was someone who was permanently expecting trouble and, she suspected, probably happy when it arrived on his doorstep.

The conversation between the two men became slightly more animated and Kelly wished that she was close enough to make out what was being said. It was obvious that Rickard was not happy and he seemed to be making an effort to keep his temper in check.

"Something is happening out there," Lewis repeated, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. "Grainger called in. He's certain that someone has been following him around all day."

"I thought I'd made it clear to Mr Grainger that he was to go home and stay there," Rickard reminded Lewis with a growl.

Lewis shrugged. "He said that he'd just popped out for groceries and became aware that something was up."

"And you come here on the basis of that alone?" There was a dangerous edge to Rickard's voice. "Have you any idea of just how important this evening is to me?"

Lewis took a deep breath. "Grainger's not the only one who reported in. Walker called in – he picked up on Thomas' tail. He wouldn't tell me on the phone what he'd discovered, but Walker's not one to get the jitters. He's got something for show and tell. Wants to know if he can come in?"

Rickard mulled the request over for a second or two before giving his answer. "I don't want Walker coming in, you go to him. Get out of him whatever it is he has to tell you – apply a little pressure if that's what it takes." Rickard looked over his shoulder and back to his guests who were beginning to look a little bored. "I've got important business to attend to here Lewis. I don't want to see you in here again tonight unless it's to tell me that the local law has finally caught up with Thomas."

Lewis nodded his understanding. "I'll get onto things Mr Rickard, don't you worry."

* * *

Sabrina rubbed at her tired eyes and looked up at the tall building in front of her that was shrouded in heavy shadow. After the day she'd had, she really wasn't sure that she had the energy to carry out her regular search of Rickard's office, but she knew that she had to find the strength to go through with it. If Rickard was onto Kelly or Kris she had to know about it. She had to know exactly what Rickard knew about them. Her meeting with Kelly played heavily on her mind. She'd not set out to have a fight with her friend, but it was far too dangerous to have her around. When things were finally put to bed; when she finally had Rickard behind bars where he belonged, then she could try and make it up to her. She'd sit her down and go through everything that had happened. She'd explain about Helena, and why it was important to her to take on the case... and she'd explain all about Michael.

She shook the thought out of her head; she couldn't afford to let herself become distracted. She had a job to do, and if Rickard was starting to doubt her trustworthiness then she had to act fast. Everything that wasn't connected to her life as Mary Thomas had to be cast aside. If she was to stay alive and stay focussed then she had to concentrate everything on remaining as Mary Thomas. She couldn't allow herself to think of comfortable hotel rooms with room service; couldn't think of the way that she'd sit with Kris and Kelly outside of work and chat about how Jill was getting on, or how they were going to spend their next vacation. She couldn't allow herself to think of the warm welcoming California sunshine.

She let out a heavy sigh; that whole world seemed like a lifetime ago – it almost felt as though they was someone else's memories.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the cold as it seeped its way into her joints, and forced her thoughts back to the present. She knew that Rickard was out attending some charity fundraiser. Knowing Rickard, he'd have Lewis in tow and that provided her with a clear way into the office. It was a chance that she couldn't afford to miss. She was confident that she could bluff her way past any late worker. She'd been on the scene long enough for them to accept her presence within the building without saying anything. She took a deep breath and broke from the shadows.

* * *

Rickard bowed and held out a hand to Kelly. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting."

"Nothing wrong I hope," Kelly enquired, keeping her tone light.

Rickard shook his head. "Just a little domestic problem. Something that Mr Lewis should be able to deal with." He took Kelly's hand and raised it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. "Now please, tell me a little more about yourself."

* * *

The room was shrouded in heavy shadows. The blinking from the neon sign across the street lit up the room periodically with an eerie green glow. Sabrina made her way silently between the heavy furniture that cluttered the office – careful to avoid knocking into anything that would give her presence away to anyone who might pass by at this late hour. Bluffing her way onto the floor was one thing, being found in Rickard's office was something else. She doubted that any amount of explanation was going to be believed.

She glanced round at the room, and wondered just where to start. Her eyes fell upon the heavy mahogany desk that dominated the room. She shrugged her shoulders; it was as good a place as any. She took a step towards it and then halted as her mind flashed up image after image of the times that she had been called into the office and made to stand and wait for Rickard to acknowledge her. She could almost see him as she stood there in the gloom; sat at his desk his attention seemingly wrapped up in the documents that were spread across the desk.

She forced her thoughts back to the present again and allowed a small smile of victory to spread across her face as she took in the uncharacteristic untidiness in front of her. Her suspicions had been correct. With all the attention that Rickard had been paying to her in the last few days, he'd taken his eye off the ball when it came to the clearing up of paperwork. There were a handful of folders on the desk, but more importantly there was the pad of paper that he used to jot down notes of the things that needed to be done. She stepped in closer and took a look at the notepad. Rickard was a thorough man; had to be to have gotten where he was. He was usually meticulous about tidying things away, but from where she was standing she could see the tell-tale indentations of whatever had been written on the previous sheet of paper. She carefully tore the sheet from the pad and folded it into quarters before slipping it into her jacket pocket. She then crouched down and began sifting through the contents of the un-emptied wastepaper basket.

There she found more scraps of paper; all of them potentially telling her a little something more about Rickard's network of suppliers. In the last eighteen months she had been through his office on more occasions than she cared to remember. She'd not always come away with something useful; but tonight was looking very promising indeed. The problem with Rickard was the fact that he was loath to commit things to paper; it seemed to Sabrina that the majority of his transactions were carried out simply with a handshake. She knew who his suppliers were; it was just a matter of finding something concrete that confirmed it.

She froze as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps making their way along the corridor outside. Her heart suddenly hammered inside her chest, and she did her best to take steady even breaths, trying to calm herself down. It didn't matter the number of times that she did this kind of work; there was always the very real fear of being discovered. She remained perfectly still, straining to listen to anything the people outside might say. If they were to enter the office, she'd only have a few seconds to try and escape detection. She immediately quashed the voice in her head that reminded her that things had been much simpler when there was someone to act as look out. That wasn't a scenario that was possible anymore. There were more risks with the way she was doing things, but that couldn't be helped. She slowly let out the breath she was holding as the footsteps carried on down the corridor.

She waited for a few seconds, to satisfy herself that they really weren't coming back, and then she returned to the business in hand.

With Rickard's ever-growing suspicion of her, she knew that it was more dangerous than ever to snoop around his offices, but if time was running out then she had to get every grain of information that she could.

She pushed the smoothed out pieces of paper into the bag she was carrying and then placed the bin back in its original place. From her crouched position on the floor, she cast her eyes around the office again. The drawers in the desk would be locked. Although she'd have little trouble picking the locks; it was always difficult to completely hide all the evidence of intrusion. One slip with a pick would leave a scratch in the varnish that she knew Rickard would spot.

Her head snapped round towards the door. She could plainly hear the low rumble of two voices from outside in the hallway. She swore silently and berated herself for letting her guard down. She froze as she made out the shapes on the other side of the frosted glass. She willed the two to walk on past – to just leave her in peace and go on their way. Her heart rate ratcheted up another gear as she heard the sound of someone fumbling with the lock. She backed up until she felt the wall behind her. There was nowhere to go.

The door was wrenched open and the stillness of the office was destroyed. Over the thumping of her own heart, Sabrina made out the sound of two voices, both of them male.

There was the sound of a low thud, and then a stream of invective. Sabrina immediately recognised the voice as Grainger's. She pushed herself back against the wall and hoped that the two men would come to the conclusion that the light from the street outside was enough to see by.

She almost gave her position away as the cabinet she was using for cover suddenly shook violently. She bit back the cry that rose in the back of her throat, and prayed that none of the clutter from the top of the cabinet would fall her way.

There was the shriek of metal against metal, and Sabrina realised that someone was searching for something in the bottom drawer of the cabinet. A few moments later her suspicions were confirmed as she heard the unmistakable sound of glasses chinking together.

"Are you sure we should be touching Rickard's scotch?" Grainger's voice was thin and unsure. His question was unanswered, but Sabrina made out the sound of two tumblers being filled before the bottle was replaced in its drawer and the screeching of metal against metal was repeated.

"I don't like it," Grainger grumbled – his comment was followed by the unmistakable sound of a match being struck. Grainger took a deep breath and inhaled deeply.

"You shouldn't be doing that in here," a second voice protested, and Sabrina cursed beneath her breath when she realised it was Lewis. She'd been trying to convince herself that she'd be able to sweet talk her way out of the situation if the main protagonist in the room was Grainger. The man was a little greasy little weasel, but after spending the last few days with him, she was certain that she would be able to spin a tale that he'd believe. Lewis on the other hand was a completely different prospect. The man was capable of murder; she'd seen that first hand; he was also incredibly loyal to Rickard, and she somehow doubted that he'd let her out of the room alive if he discovered what she was up to. She strained her ears, trying to make out what was going on.

"I said you shouldn't be doing that in here," Lewis repeated. Sabrina heard the creak of leather as the tall broad-shouldered man leant back in a chair.

Sabrina pressed her back up against the wall in a futile attempt to make her profile thinner. No matter what she did, if Grainger were to take one more step back it would all be over. There would be no way that he could fail to notice her presence in the room. She swallowed nervously, and closed her eyes, waiting for the moment.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Thank you lovely people. Here's a little more.**_

_**

* * *

**_

Grainger clicked his tongue against his teeth as he took a step back across the office towards Lewis. "You steal two generous measures of Rickard's best scotch and you worry about me taking a smoke! Rickard smokes. He's not going to notice the difference."

Lewis wagged a finger in Grainger's direction. "He doesn't smoke that cheap crap that you do. If he says anything in the morning, then I'm not going to cover your ass."

Grainger glared at Lewis, but duly stubbed the cigarette out into the ashtray that sat on the table. "Satisfied?" he asked sarcastically.

"Oh yeah," Lewis replied, taking a gulp of the scotch. "Mr Rickard's not going to notice the sudden appearance of your cut price cigarette butt in his ashtray."

"Jeez," Grainger snatched at the offending cigarette butt. "You always such a pain in the ass?"

"Mr Rickard trusts me," Lewis replied defensively. "There's not a lot of people around here can claim that." He looked meaningfully over the top of his glass at Grainger. "I wasn't the one he sent out of town on some fool's errand."

Grainger squared up to Lewis, and immediately regretted doing so. Lewis towered over him.

Lewis was well aware of his physical advantage and flexed his muscles to emphasise the point.

Grainger thought it best not to dwell on the issue further. He sought a quick change of subject. "So what's the reception like? The room full of enough of old money to please him?"

Lewis shrugged his shoulders. "The whole thing is a waste of time if you ask me. All he's doing is playing up to these upper class stiffs. You can see them all there, noses in the trough, all desperate for a share of the money that they think he can make them. One sign of weakness and they'll drop him like a stone." Lewis paused and thought back to the conversation that he'd interrupted. "Mind you, there are some advantages to mixing with the rich folk. The scenery is certainly better."

Granger took a step towards the desk. "Did you get a chance to ask Rickard about the guy who's been following me around?"

"No," Lewis drawled sarcastically. "We stood there and discussed whether the Giants are going to get their act together or end the season bottom of the division!" He waited for the pout to appear on Grainger's face before continuing. "He wants it looked into. I'm gonna rattle a few cages; get a few more bodies out on the street tonight. I've also got a little trip to make myself. Walker's offering up some information on Thomas."

Grainger scowled at the mention of her name. "How long d'you think Rickard's going to put up with the way that Thomas has been carrying on?"

Lewis smiled. "I'm hoping not long." He took in the expression of confusion on Grainger's face. "If you have to ask the question, then you're not mature enough to know the answer."

Grainger raised an eyebrow. "You really think he'll let you take care of things in your own unique way? Would have thought that he'd want the matter handled in a more subtle fashion."

"Hey," Lewis protested. "I can do subtle."

"That's not what I heard," Grainger scoffed. "Just how many people did Rickard have to pay off after that little number you did on … what's her name …Melanie ….Melanie … something?" He clicked his fingers, trying to remember the girl's name. "Anyway, whatever the bitch's name, I seem to recall that Rickard had to dig deep into his pockets and call in a lot of favours on that one."

Lewis stretched out in the chair and after a few moments a slow smile spread across his face. "Ahh the lovely Melanie. I'd almost forgotten all about her. If only she'd learnt to be a little more accommodating, then there wouldn't have been any trouble; turned out to be quite the little firebrand in the end."

Grainger shook his head. "You're unbelievable."

"I enjoy my work," Lewis countered. "And when Rickard finally nails the location of the two broads that have been following Thomas around like a bad smell, then I may just get to nail them as well." He grinned wolfishly at Grainger, who just looked at him in disgust.

"You're an animal," Grainger made no attempt to hide his disgust. "Do you ever manage to get your thoughts above crotch level?"

Lewis straightened up in the chair, and Grainger was once again reminded of just how much more physically powerful Lewis was. He held his hands up. "I'm not looking for a fight," he back-tracked.

"Good," Lewis sneered. "You wouldn't be worth the effort of getting out of this seat. All you've got to remember is that we all bring something to this business. You're a greasy little shyster with a nose for a deal, but you've got no backbone for when things get physical." He tapped a finger against his own chest. "Me; I like the physical side of things. If things get to a state where someone needs to be shown a little discipline – well then that's my specialty."

Grainger stared wordlessly at Lewis. The man was a cold, unfeeling animal as far as he was concerned. He shook his head; there was no point in trying to explain morals to Lewis; the man obviously didn't have any. He sought to move the subject back to safer ground.

"Thomas has a fan club, does she? Wondered why Rickard was so keen to get her out of town."

Lewis scratched at the stubble that was forming on his chin. "The little club's been growing as far as we can make out. First it was just Gage's men getting on her case, but in the last few days she's had these two women on her tail."

"Maybe Gage's just changing his angle?" Grainger suggested. "Like I said, I could swear that someone was following me around earlier."

"Maybe," Lewis didn't sound convinced. "From what I've heard these women are way out of Gage's league. Either way Mr Rickard wants them dealt with."

"And that's a task you've nobly taken on?"

Lewis flashed Grainger a smile. "You bet. I'm almost sorry that the business is nearly over."

* * *

From her place behind the cabinet Sabrina's blood ran cold as she listened to the conversation that was taking place. It looked as though her worst fears were confirmed; Rickard was onto Kelly and Kris. She had to get the two of them out of harm's way as quickly as possible. If Lewis was to get to them, she didn't want to think about what would happen. The causal way that he'd referred to this other woman had chilled her to the bone. She fleetingly wondered just how many people Lewis had killed. An image of Michael flashed into her mind, and she quashed it as quickly as she could. Now was not the time to be haunted by those kinds of memories.

The way that Lewis had casually discussed what he wanted to do to her two friends had made her feel sick. It had taken all her self-control not to break cover and confront the man then and there. She'd had to remind herself that she was unarmed, and on her own with no back-up. Leaping straight into a situation like that was only going to result in her own death – and mean that all the work she'd put in for the last eighteen months would amount to nothing. She bit down hard on her lip and remained where she was.

She forced herself to continue listening to the two men. Her knees were starting to protest as she stayed crouched out of view, but she couldn't afford to move a muscle. It was a minor miracle that Grainger hadn't stepped any closer to her hiding place. Every minute that they remained in the office only increased the likelihood that they would discover her, and she didn't want to dwell on what the consequences would be were that to happen. Trying to keep her breathing as shallow as possible she tried to take in everything that they were saying.

* * *

"What if Thomas does a disappearing act?' Grainger wanted to know. "What if she's working her own game and just playing us all? I told you how she bolted when we got back to the city."

"She won't get far if she does try to run," Lewis replied calmly. "There's a part of me that almost hopes that she does turn it into a hunt. Nothing quite as satisfying as cornering your prey on the run; the adrenaline rush makes the kill that much more enjoyable." He leant over and prodded Grainger hard in the chest. "I think Rickard's almost as pissed at you for losing Thomas as he is at her for running off like that."

"It wasn't my fault," Grainger whined. "She was out of that car before I could stop her."

Lewis rubbed his hands together. "I'd have stopped her. She wouldn't have gotten away from me like that."

"No," Grainger's voice was scathing. "What, so you'd have chased her down the street?"

"No. I'd have made sure that she wasn't in a position to run in the first place." He reached back and fished a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket, allowing them to dangle from one finger before pushing one of the cuffs till it ratcheted shut and then popped back open again. "Be prepared," he grinned wolfishly at Grainger.

"You carry them all the time?" Grainger tried to hide his disbelief.

Lewis drained his glass before pushing the cuffs back into his trouser pocket. "Always be ready for a little bit of fun Grainger. You never know where you might find her!"

Winking at Grainger, Lewis pushed himself to his feet and headed for the door.

Grainger looked down at the two dirty tumblers. "And what about these?" he protested.

"If I were you, I'd make sure they were spotless and back where they belong before you leave," Lewis told him as he disappeared out into the corridor.

Grainger swore beneath his breath, and looked around for something to clean the glasses with. It was typical of Lewis to leave him with the dirty work. The nearest source of running water was a good walk away. Swearing again, Grainger delved into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He quickly wiped the inside of the glasses and then pulled open the screeching metal drawer and replaced the glasses inside.

Glancing around the office, checking that everything was back in its place, Grainger finally satisfied himself that all was as it should be and headed out into the corridor, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Sabrina sat motionless for a few minutes before she forced herself to move from her hiding place. Adrenaline was pumping through her system, her heart hammering inside her ribcage at the close call. She'd been close enough to Grainger to smell the cheap cologne that he wore. One wrong move and everything would have been over. Her fingers shook with the knowledge of the danger that she'd been in. She clenched her fists, trying to push the thoughts from her head, and tried to take deep, calming breaths. She had to get out of the building. Kelly and Kris were in very real danger. She had to persuade them to get out of the city; she had to prevent them from becoming another trophy kill for Lewis.

Her muscles protested at the demands that she made on them, but she shrugged off the pain and forced herself out of the office and down the corridor, expecting to bump into Lewis or Grainger at every step. She had to get to Kelly and Kris and get them out of the city; she had to persuade them somehow without tipping her hand. Things were going to be that much harder now that she had the police on her tail, but that was something that she'd just have to deal with.

She pulled open the rear door of the building and slipped back out into the freezing night air. She immediately discounted the idea of paying another visit to the hotel. If Rickard had people out on the street looking for her, the last thing she wanted to do was lead them straight to Kris and Kelly. She had to think before she acted. It felt as though the walls were beginning to close in; she had to find a way to get Rickard back on side; the man's patience wasn't infinite. Running out on Grainger was something that she still had to try and explain, and she knew that it was going to take some fast talking to accomplish that. Things were coming at her thick and fast now and she'd have to fight to stay on top of all of them.

* * *

Kelly felt as though the smile on her face was in danger of becoming fixed in place. She'd done her best to engage Rickard in conversation, but he seemed to deflect every question away from himself and turn it back towards her. Not for the first time that evening, she wished that she'd had longer to work on a cover. She was trying to keep things simple, trying not to over-embellish details that would only come back and trip her up later but he was making it difficult, seemingly wanting an entire life story from her. She forced the smile a little wider as he asked another question and let out a gentle laugh.

"Come now," she scolded him lightly. "You don't really expect me to give up all my business secrets in one night, do you?"

Rickard clasped a hand to his chest. "Please forgive me," he told her, a smile lighting up his features. "It's just that it's so much more pleasant talking to you than the normal dullards I have to deal with on a daily basis." He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "I beg your forgiveness, but I really must go and..."

"... Mingle with the dullards?" Kelly finished the sentence for him. "I understand." She raised her eyebrows as she took in the time. "I'm sorry to have kept you from your guests for so long."

"No apology needed," Rickard told her honestly. "Perhaps we could meet again... in more agreeable surroundings?"

"That would be lovely," Kelly smiled back at him, once again wishing that she'd had the time to build a proper cover. "I'm a little busy with work. No real base so to speak..." She paused. "Could I perhaps call you?"

"Of course." Rickard dipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. "Call me any time that you like."

Kelly reached for the card, her fingers catching the edge of the smooth surface. Rickard didn't release it immediately, waiting for her eyes to meet his before he reluctantly let go.

"Are you sure that I can't arrange a lift back to your hotel for you?"

He'd asked the question before and Kelly was finding it increasingly harder to keep her address a secret from him. The more she evaded his enquiries, the more suspicious he was likely to become. She made a show of examining the wording on the card.

"I'll be sure to call you," she told him smoothly. "And please, don't put yourself to any trouble. I have an account with a local car firm; they would be hurt if I didn't take them up on their kind offer of a free car."

Rickard smiled and nodded, as though accepting her at her word.

"You have made my evening unexpectedly brighter," he told her sincerely. "I hope it won't be too long before I hear from you again."

Kelly returned the smile. "I'll call," she promised him.

Rickard clicked his fingers in the direction of one of the waiters who were nervously hovering at the edges of the room. As soon as he had the man's attention, he ordered him to collect Kelly's coat and to show her to the front door; making it clear that he wasn't to leave her until she was safely in her car.

Kelly was beginning to find his attentiveness a little claustrophobic. She hoped that she'd be able to slow the relationship down before he got any ideas about wanting to surprise her by having flowers delivered to where she was staying. As she finally took her leave from him, she wondered if her trip to the reception had really been such a wise idea.

* * *

Harry Gage slammed the receiver back in its cradle with more force than was strictly necessary. Not for the first time that week he had cause to question the people he chose to surround himself with. His instructions had, to his mind, been crystal clear. A message needed to be sent to Rickard – a message of clear and precise intent. He'd crossed lines he had no business crossing and needed to be reminded of his place. The garbled message from Branning had told him that his subordinate had failed to understand the message correctly. He was not paying people to sit and watch the actions of Rickard's people; he wasn't interested in where they spent their days – he wasn't interested in them at all. All he wanted was them off of the street. He reiterated his earlier instruction. If it was necessary to have the streets of the city running with the blood of Rickard's employees, then that is what he expected them to do.


	15. Chapter 15

_**And on we go - had a fight with this chapter. I'm still not sure who won!**_

Kelly stood at the door to the hotel suite and took a deep breath. The hour was late, and the last thing she wanted to do was disturb her friends. If she was honest with herself then she wasn't certain that she had the energy for the talk that she needed to have with Kris. She wanted nothing more than to straighten out the misunderstanding between them, but the hour was late and her nerves were already shot after the events of the day.

Promising herself that she'd tackle the situation head on in the morning, she opened the door as quietly as she could; slipping in as soon as the space was wide enough and pushing the door closed again with the gentlest of clicks. She turned to make her way across the room but halted almost immediately as she saw that the standard lamp on the far side of the room was still on.

Listening carefully, she made out the sound of low voices coming from the small kitchen area. After a few moments she recognised Kris' voice. Her friend sounded agitated. When her voice fell silent it was replaced by a lower voice; a voice that was distorted slightly by the squawk box that was amplifying it.

She felt her heart sink slightly. Charlie had called... finally, and she'd not been there to explain her actions. Slipping out of her coat, she dropped it on the back of the sofa and made her way over to the others.

"Evening Charlie," she greeted her boss with as light a tone as she could manage. She glanced at her two friends and smiled, wondering why Kris looked uncomfortably away the moment that their eyes met. "What's going on?"

There was silence in the room.

"Charlie?" Kelly turned to the phone, hoping that he at least would provide her with some answers.

"I thought I asked you to leave things alone Angel," Charlie's reproving voice finally replied. "From what I hear you haven't exactly been following my instructions."

At that moment Kelly realised the reason that her friend had been looking so agitated. She turned her gaze upon Kris again. "You called Charlie, didn't you?"

She hadn't meant for her question to sound so accusing, but the realisation had stung.

"What did you expect me to do?" Kris countered. "We need to know what's going on. We can't just blunder around in the dark and hope for the best."

Kelly turned to look at Tiffany. "And you agree with her?"

Looking slightly uncomfortable Tiffany nodded. "After what I found out today, I don't think you can blame me. I believe we're in very real danger of getting in over our heads. I'm not saying we should pull out; I'm just saying that I think we need to arm ourselves with as much information as we can." She paused and nodded in the direction of the squawk box. "And can you think of a better source of information?"

Kelly reluctantly had to agree that Tiffany had a point, but she still felt a nagging trace of betrayal at the way that things had seemingly taken place behind her back. She pushed that thought down; reminding herself of her earlier promise not to do anything until she'd had a proper conversation with Kris.

She pulled up one of the high stools that ran the length of the kitchen counter and met Kris' gaze.

"So what have I missed?"

Kris' expression relaxed as she realised that Kelly wasn't about to go off the deep end. She shook her head. "The connection was made only a minute ago, we haven't really had the chance to cover any ground."

"Good; because there are a few things that I'd like answers to before we go any further."

"Such as?"

"When I saw Sabrina earlier on today... that wasn't the Bri I went through the academy with; that wasn't the friend who's been a part of this team from the start. She was running on empty Charlie. She's been trying to handle all this on her own for months... Why didn't you tell us that Michael was dead?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Charlie?" Kelly prompted after a few moments.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't know for certain," Charlie admitted. "I had my suspicions, but I didn't have any proof one way or the other." He paused. "How did you find out?"

"Local law couldn't wait to tell me all the details," Tiffany replied quietly from the seat she'd taken on the sofa. "You stated that you told Sabrina to get out of the city. Was this the reason behind it?"

"The last message I received from him was in one of the designated dead drops that we'd established, telling me that he thought his cover was in danger. I advised them both to get out of there straight away."

"And yet despite saying you were worried, you did nothing to make sure that they'd followed your advice." Kelly's tone was harsh.

"I tried to make contact with them both via the dead drop system but nothing was collected," Charlie tried to explain.

"Bri was hospitalised following a beating from Rickard's thugs. Michael was killed. It's hardly surprising that they didn't find time to pick up their messages."

Charlie didn't reply, and Kelly briefly felt a pang of guilt at the way that she had just spoken. If Charlie truly had no knowledge of what had happened to the two employees, then the news would have come as something of a shock.

"I'm sorry," she let the breath out as she leant her arms upon the top of the counter, finally allowing herself to relax a little.

"Not half as sorry as I am," Charlie told her quietly. "I should have pushed the investigation further. Made certain that they were both out of there."

Kris looked at the anguish on her friend's face before speaking to Charlie. "Just how much contact did you have with Sabrina?"

"Initially there were to have been weekly drops, but that proved to be difficult to maintain," Charlie explained. "From the feedback I was getting, it appeared that Rickard's men watched them closely. The drops became less and less frequent, and then stopped altogether for a while."

Kris paused, trying to find the best way to word the next question. "Did you do anything to try and find out what had happened?"

"There was little I could do," Charlie admitted. "Going in, the pair of them were well aware that the case might mean that they would lose all contact with the outside world. Maintaining their cover twenty four hours of the day was the only way to guarantee their safety. There were periods of time where I lost contact with them for weeks on end. I just had to rely on them to look after each other and get out of there if things looked bad."

"But for them to have been gone for so long," Kelly found that she had to ask the question. "Surely you knew that something was wrong?"

There was a long period of silence on the other end of the line. "When I hadn't heard from either of them in three months ... I feared that I'd lost them both."

The room fell silent; Kelly felt as though she wanted a hole to open up in the floor of the room and swallow her. She'd only heard things from Sabrina's side – she'd not stopped to think that maybe Charlie had feared and accepted the worst.

"Charlie..." she began, but found that she couldn't carry on.

"I'm sorry Angel," Charlie told her softly. "When you told me that you'd seen her, I couldn't quite believe it."

"And is that the reason you wanted us to keep away from her?" Kris ventured.

"I was concerned that she'd kept away from contacting me because it was too dangerous for her to do so. If she was suddenly to become associated with the three of you, then it could place you all in trouble."

"I don't think we can afford to leave Bri alone, Kelly argued. "She's in trouble Charlie. Local law are out searching for her."

"There's nothing subtle about the way that some of the local cops are gunning for her," Tiffany backed up Kelly's comment. "Her landlord has been murdered and I get the feeling that no-one in the local precinct is going to go to much effort to prove that it wasn't Bri who killed him."

There was a long pause on the end of the phone before Charlie answered.

"Tiffany it sounds as though you have the ear of the local police department. It could be a lead worth following."

Kelly leant forward. "Are you changing your mind Charlie?"

"Not exactly Kelly. Tiffany I want you to be careful, and to report back to me the moment that you learn anything. An arrest could be the best way to get Sabrina away from Rickard."

"What!" Kelly was incredulous.

"Think about it," Tiffany picked up on the idea. "Thornford implied that getting arrested was nothing more than an occupational hazard for Sabrina. If we can ensure that we're there to bail her out..."

"...Or to arrange for her to be moved to another location where one of you will then be able to talk with her," Charlie continued the thought.

"It'll take some setting up," Kelly mused. "And that may be time that Bri doesn't have."

"But it's worth trying surely?" Kris saw the potential in the plan.

Kelly finally nodded. "Yeah, it's worth trying. We've just got to hope that the police find Bri before anyone else does."

"I'll head back down to the station house in the morning," Tiffany affirmed. "And if Sabrina happens to make contact with one of us again... maybe I can point the cops in the right direction."

Kelly remained silent as the meeting came naturally to an end. Even though she knew it was going to be for Sabrina's own good, the idea of setting her up didn't sit well on her shoulders. As Tiffany unplugged the squawk box Kelly eased herself down off of the stool and paced across the small kitchen to the fridge. She pulled open the heavy door and stared at the meagre contents. "A swanky reception and I spend so much time talking to Rickard that I don't take full advantage of the buffet. I must be slipping," she filled the uncomfortable silence with meaningless chatter.

"Are you ok with this?" Kris broached the subject immediately, not wanting to wait for it to become a problem.

"Ok with what?" Kelly wanted to know, still ostensibly scanning the contents of the fridge

"Come on," Kris pleaded with her. "I didn't call Charlie to try and annoy you. I really thought that it was time that we got him up to date with what was going on."

"Right... fine." Kelly straightened up and pushed the door closed.

"Kel..."

"Kris, I'm tired... I'm not looking for an argument with you. Yes, I wish you'd spoken to me before you called Charlie, but only so that I could have made sure I was back here when he called... and I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the meeting with Bri, but with the way that she's been acting recently... I really wasn't sure if she'd show if there were two of us."

Kris studied her friend for a few moments, trying to gauge whether or not she was holding something back.

"I wanted to see her," Kris told her simply. "I'm hearing all this stuff about her and yet I'm the only one who doesn't get to see her."

"I am sorry," Kelly repeated honestly. "If the situation had been different, I'd have been straight on the phone to you."

"Just don't shut me out," Kris pleaded with her. "If we're going to get through this, then it's going to be through teamwork. Bri's on her own, and from what you've said ... it's not the best way to work."

Kelly met her friend's gaze and realised that she was right.

* * *

Branning took a long drag on his cigarette and savoured the moment before blowing out a steady stream of smoke, watching it as it formed and settled around him in the confines of the car.

Lawson swore beneath his breath. "You have to do that now?" he grumbled.

"You don't like it then crack a window," Branning retorted smartly, taking another drag on the cigarette and blowing the resulting smoke in his colleague's direction. There was nothing worse to his mind than an ex-smoker, and Lawson was one of the worst. His sanctimonious preaching was starting to get on his nerves, and he theorised that it was only a matter of time before the pair of them would come to blows over the subject.

He heard the creak of a seat as Lawson shifted position. He automatically tensed, wondering if this was going to be the moment that he had to take things out onto the street.

"Come on," Lawson tapped him lightly on the arm. "I think I've just spotted one of Rickard's little birds."

Branning hastily stubbed out his cigarette and reached into his jacket to check the status of his handgun. Gage had warned them that he wouldn't accept anything less than a kill, and he wasn't about to disappoint his boss again.

Lawson swore again. "Hold fire. She's just entered a building across the street. We may have to wait a little while longer."

Branning said nothing but simply reached into his jacket pocket and pulled another cigarette from the soft pack that was nestled there. He snapped open his lighter and lit the cigarette, watching as the tip caught.

He heard the muted swearing from Lawson but chose to ignore it. There was something more important on his mind now. He drew deeply on the cigarette and mentally prepared himself for what was to come. They weren't going to miss their target this time.

* * *

Sabrina took a long mouthful of cold beer before placing the glass back down on the bar. She really didn't have the money to be out buying drinks in bars, but she needed to be somewhere for a few hours that wasn't as quiet and bleak as her apartment. Lewis' words had been running through her head ever since she'd made her way out of Rickard's office. It was more than just a worry now; Rickard was on the lookout for Kris and Kelly and, as she'd suspected, had his own serious concerns about her loyalty. Things were in real danger of coming apart at the seams. She'd worked too hard to have everything just fall apart now. She leant forward, resting her head in her hands and staring at the remainder of the beer in the glass. She couldn't even remember when she'd started thinking that beer was the drink of choice.

She raised her head and glanced towards the doors as they were pushed open and cold blast of wind blew the napkins from the table tops. There was no reason to think that Lewis or any other of Rickard's thugs would be out on the street; it was just second nature now to fear the worst.

Lewis' words came unbidden to her mind. There was no point in trying to get out of the city; in trying to run. Lewis had confirmed what she already feared. If she were to run, then he would simply follow. Running would just confirm her guilt in Rickard's mind and sign her own death warrant. The only way to get away from the likes of Rickard and Lewis was to prove their guilt and get them off the street. Until she did that they would always be at her heels, wherever she went - tainting every relationship that she had. Every meeting with Kris or Kelly just increased the risk to them.

She sat back on the bar stool and glanced along the length of the narrow dark bar. The place was only half full, and most of the stools were occupied by couples; all leaning towards each other, oblivious to the others around them. There was no-one to engage in conversation; no-one to exchange a few meaningless pleasantries with. She checked to see that the barman was down at the other end of the bar, before reaching for her bag and pulling out the pieces of paper that she had lifted from Rickard's office. There was a time when she would never have dared to look at the material in public, but now; well now things were different.

She sorted through them again. The page from the notebook seemed like the best place to start.

Pulling a pencil from her bag, she ran it over the indentations in the paper, waiting for the words beneath to be revealed. Her actions were lazy at first; casual strokes across the page, revealing the information letter by letter. As she progressed, the action became faster.

She swore quietly beneath her breath as she realised what she was looking at. She raised her head immediately, checking to see that no-one was paying any attention to what she was doing, before returning her attention to the page.

There it was … it a clear long list. Everything that Rickard planned to buy and sell in the coming week. This was it …She already knew some of the names he would buy from, but there had never been any tangible evidence linking them to Rickard. She placed the pencil down on the wooden surface of the bar and just stared at the sheet of paper as though she couldn't believe it.

"You want another?"

"What!" She was pulled back to reality by the bartender who stood in front of her, one hand gesturing towards the half-empty glass that sat on the bar; a bored expression plastered on his face.

She shook her head, reaching into her jacket pocket in search of money. She winced as she felt her hands close around the coinage in her pocket. There would be enough to cover the drink, but barely enough to make a tip.

She placed the coins down on the bar and quickly gathered together the pieces of paper that were in danger of being blown away by the next customer in through the door, and stuffed them into her bag. Sliding off the stool she made her way along the length of the narrow bar, pushing on the glass fronted door and heading out into the unforgiving cold of the night.

The beer was enough to put a slight soft haze on the world around her. The sensation was not altogether unpleasant. She didn't care about the wind as it howled around her, whipping up the trash and blowing it across her path. She had finally made an inroad into Rickard's business. It fitted with everything else that she had learnt about the man during the past eighteen months. It was the piece that completed the picture.

That feeling of satisfaction was marred by the knowledge that Lewis was on the trail of Kelly and Kris. She had to get them safely out of the city before she acted on the knowledge that she had.

She pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket and continued on down the block towards the crosswalk. She didn't notice the man who detached himself from the shadows and set off after her. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice his presence until his hand closed over her mouth and pulled her roughly into the darkness of an abandoned building.

* * *

Gage stared into the fire and watched the flames as they leapt and crackled in the grate. There was something reassuring about an old-fashioned open fire. You fed the flames and they responded, burning fuel until everything was spent. There was no complication; no dance to be danced to get what was needed. In Gage's mind that was the way that business was supposed to be conducted. You entered into a transaction with another party, and when the terms were agreed upon, that transaction would be honoured. There was no place in his world for third party interference. No place for irritants like Rickard who didn't know the meaning of the word honour.

The old leather of the armchair creaked as he shifted his weight, reaching for the tumbler of whisky that sat on the small table at his side. Tonight was not a night that he took any pleasure in, but business was business and a clear message had to be sent. He'd received the call from Lawson only a few minutes earlier. Rickard's runner had been dealt with. She had been spotted on the street and Branning and Lawson had duly lifted her as instructed. She would be disposed off and the word would get back to Rickard.

Gage took a sip of the smooth whisky and slowly turned the tumbler, watching as the light from the fire reflected on the glass. Human life was such a fragile thing; a commodity to be sold and disposed of just like anything else. It was, he reflected, something of a sad state of affairs when things came down to this, but such was the nature of the world that he lived in.

A thought pulled at the edges of his mind, and he allowed a slight smile to curl the corners of his mouth. Reaching forward, he lifted the phone receiver and tapped a series of numbers on the keypad.

"Arrange for a gift basket for Mr Rickard," he instructed the man on the other end of the line. "No expense spared. A bouquet of flowers and a message of condolence for his loss."


	16. Chapter 16

Tiffany made her way along the street towards the station house. The morning was grey and overcast, but she hoped that this day would turn out to be less fraught that the previous one. There had been an underlying tension in the hotel suite the night before. A tension that had been building since the early evening, and one that Charlie's phone call had done little to ease. Her two friends were just looking at the situation from different viewpoints, and she hoped that she'd be able to maintain the middle ground between them. They had reached an understanding – but were both still some way from the close friendship she had experienced when she first joined the agency.

She tried to push those thoughts from her mind as she made her way up the front steps and walked confidently into the station house, nodding in the direction of the desk sergeant as she passed on her way into the squad room. Thornford's gruff tones dominated the noise in the room. He was barking orders at every officer who passed close to him, and Tiffany wondered just what had rattled the sergeant.

Stepping out of the way of an officer who was hurrying to get passed her, Tiffany cast her eyes around the room, trying to spot Jarrett who'd been such a reliable source of information so far. It took her a few moments, but then she caught sight of him as he made his way across the room and back towards his regular desk.

Composing herself, Tiffany threaded her way towards him.

"What's up with Thornford this morning?" she jerked a thumb back over her shoulder in the direction of the overweight Sergeant who was chewing out a clerical officer for some misdemeanour. "I hope I'm not the reason he's going round like a bear with a sore head. I don't think I made a great impression on him yesterday."

Jarrett glanced in the direction of his Sergeant before pulling a face. "It's not you. He's been like this all morning." Jarrett scratched the back of his neck. "Thornford never likes it when a suspect does something as inconsiderate as dying on him."

"He's having a bad day so the rest of the squad room have to walk around on egg shells?"

Jarrett shrugged his shoulders. "Something like that. It's rare for Thornford to get himself motivated enough to pursue a case, and when he does, he hates it if he can't push it all the way through the courts."

Tiffany smiled. "Proud of his conviction rate is he?"

Jarrett nodded. "It's rare if something he pursues doesn't go all the way." Jarrett stretched out in his chair and stared balefully at the paperwork that was piling up in front of him. He smiled in what he hoped was a pleading way. "I don't suppose you fancy helping me out with this lot?" he asked. "I've never had what you could call a good working relationship with the typewriter."

Tiffany smiled back at him and looked at the files that were stacked high on Jarrett's desk. "Why the rush on paperwork?"

"Well with the sudden demise of Mary Thomas, Thornford's keen to try and pin whatever petty unsolved crime he has on her." He winked at Tiffany. "Just don't print that in your article."

Tiffany fought to keep her expression neutral as she took in what Jarrett had just told her. A rush of questions formed in her mind, and she forced herself to take a deep breath and organise her thoughts before she asked for any detail. She didn't want Jarrett to realise just how interested she was in the topic.

"Something happen to Mary Thomas?" she tried to keep her tone as casual as possible, despite the fact that her heart was thumping at a rapid rate at the shock of the news.

Jarrett opened up the top file and skimmed through it. Tiffany fought against the urge to rip the file from his hands and demand an answer from him. She waited as patiently as she could until finally Jarrett raised his head again.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "Did you say something?"

Tiffany gripped the strap of her purse tightly and forced herself to remain calm. "You said that something had happened to Mary Thomas?"

"Ahh that," Jarrett acknowledged. "She's the reason that Thornford's going around like he's a got a pole up his ass. He's all ready to charge her with murder and the stupid bitch goes and gets herself killed." He looked at the expression on Tiffany's face. "Are you alright?"

Tiffany forced a smile onto her face and attempted a casual shrug of her shoulders. "Thornford only mentioned her yesterday. It just seems ... I don't know..." she petered out, not certain that she could keep the quaver out of her voice any longer.

Jarrett gave her a sympathetic look. "It does come as a shock when you're not used to it," he consoled her. "When you've been in the job a while you end up like Thornford where death becomes nothing more than an extra stack of paperwork." He lifted a sheet from the file that he'd been reading. "Reckon we can add this unsolved bag snatching onto her file?"

Tiffany's mind was still reeling from the news. She sat in mute silence, not responding to Jarrett's question.

Realising that he'd overstepped some sort of boundary; Jarrett returned the sheet to the file and closed it. "You ok?"

"...Yeah," Tiffany shook herself out of her reverie and sat back in her chair. "What happened to Thomas anyway?"

"Got an anonymous call regarding a body being dumped out at Hunters Point. Caller reckoned that they knew the identity of the corpse."

Tiffany swallowed nervously. "Mary Thomas?"

Jarrett nodded. "Seemed pretty certain from what the report says. Local Uniforms had pulled a body matching the description from the East River in the early hours."

"Oh my God," the words slipped from Tiffany's mouth.

Jarrett shrugged. "Hey, don't get all beat up about it. People like Thomas disappear in this city every day, not all of them are as lucky as her," he paused and waited to see if his comment would get a response. When Tiffany remained silent, he continued on with his punch line regardless. "...And it's the other thing that's really pissing Thornford off. The city'll have to pay for her funeral!"

Tiffany rose wordlessly from her seat and set off towards the exit.

"Hey," Jarrett called after her. "You ok? It was only a joke for God's sake!"

Tiffany turned back to face the young officer. "I guess I'm not as casual about death as you are," she told him quietly. 'I just need some air. I'll be back in a while."

* * *

Lewis stared down at his feet, trying his best to keep a lid on his temper. It had been obvious from the tone in Rickard's voice on the phone that the man was in a foul mood. Arriving at the office, his suspicions had been confirmed as Rickard had started laying into him, blaming him for events that had occurred the previous night. Lewis chewed the inside of his cheek, trying not to rise to the things that Rickard was saying.

If there was one thing that Lewis didn't have patience for, it was being held responsible for things that were nothing to do with him. Experience however had taught him that there were times when it was just safer to suck it up and remain quiet; to silently accept the abuse and then find someone further on down the food chain to take it out on.

His attention still firmly fixed on his own boots, Lewis heard Rickard as the smart-suited man paced impatiently around the office.

"So you have no idea how this happened?" Rickard again asked the question, not entirely happy with the answer that Lewis had provided earlier.

Lewis lifted his head. "It was nothing to do with me."

Rickard regarded Lewis carefully. 'It's no secret that there was no love lost between the pair of you. You've been looking for a way to get at Thomas almost since the day she first arrived. Are you sure you didn't get a little carried away last night? It wouldn't be the first time after all."

Lewis shook his head. "I had nothing to do with what happened," he maintained. "I know Grainger was pissed at her." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe he thought he owed her."

Rickard raised an eyebrow. "Grainger? The man doesn't have the stomach for that sort of work."

"He has friends," Lewis offered.

Rickard considered the idea and took up a position by the window. "I think we can discount Mr Grainger from the equation. He might have friends willing to threaten, but I don't think he'd have friends suicidal enough to cross me." He pulled back on the heavy drapes and looked out on the grey streets beneath him. "It's possible that Thomas ran into another source of trouble," he grudgingly admitted. "Gage has been beating his chest about me crossing into his territory in the past few months. If this is supposed to be some sort of point scoring exercise, then we'll have to make sure that we arrange for suitable payback."

Lewis grinned. "You want me to sort that out for you?"

Rickard sighed heavily at the tone in Lewis' voice. "Patience Lewis, patience. I want all facts proved before we rush headlong into something that we might not be able to stop. Get over to the coroner's office at Hunters Point. I want a positive I.D on Thomas before we do anything. You should be able to let me know the cause of death with a higher degree of accuracy than the drunken old bastard who works out there."

"Right," Lewis made no effort to move.

Rickard turned away from the window and regarded the man. "What are you waiting for ... lunch money!"

Lewis muttered an apology and turned on his heel, heading out of the office.

Rickard watched Lewis as he pulled the door closed behind him. He wasn't entirely sure that he believed what he'd just been told. Whilst it was true that the man had been invaluable over the past few years as an enforcer, he was beginning to doubt his reliability – especially when the situation involved Mary Thomas. He'd been directly responsible for the death of Thomas' boyfriend, when the order had been to send nothing more than a warning to the pair of them. The death had been an inconvenience and hadn't been easy to cover up. With the changes that Rickard was hoping to achieve, Lewis was likely to become something of a liability. It would hardly look good among the crowd he had entertained last night if it became known that he surrounded himself with known criminals. He was on his way up in the world, and he couldn't afford to have anyone around him who might jeopardise that.

He glanced down at his desk and the buff coloured envelope that Lewis had bought with him to the office. He ran through the conversation that he'd had the previous night with Lewis. He'd been on his way to collect something. Rickard looked with distain at the creased envelope; was this really something that necessitated him barging into what should have been a quiet evening. He picked up the envelope and tore the seal, mildly surprised by the pile of photographs that fluttered their way down onto the surface of the table.

* * *

Tiffany stood outside the hotel suite and took a series of deep breaths. She couldn't do it; she knew that she couldn't just walk in the room and tell Kris and Kelly what she'd been told at the station house. To find out this way; it just wasn't right, wasn't fair.

She stepped back a pace from the door. This wasn't running away; this was finding out the truth. Closing her eyes, she turned and took another step away. This wasn't cowardice she told herself. Opening her eyes she paced confidently towards the elevator. She'd go to Hunters Point, find out the truth of the matter for herself.

She'd only covered a short distance when she heard the door to their suite open. She felt her heart sink as Kelly called out her name. She came to a halt and took a deep breath as she ordered her thoughts. She couldn't lie to her friend; that wouldn't be fair. She had to tell her what she knew ... whatever the consequences.

She composed herself as best as she could and then turned to face Kelly.

"Are you alright?" the words immediately fell from Kelly's mouth as she took in the demeanour of her colleague.

"We need to talk," Tiffany told her as softly as she could. "Is Kris still here, because what I have to say you both need to hear?"

Kelly nodded; unnerved by the way that Tiffany was obviously keeping something back.

She stepped away from the door and waited for Tiffany to walk past her. There was something in the expression on her friend's face that scared her. Something that told her she didn't want to hear whatever it was her friend had to say. Mutely, she turned on her heel and re-entered the suite.

* * *

The journey to the mortuary was painfully awkward. Tiffany was glad to be driving; it gave her an excuse to remain silent, and she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the slow moving car in front as she inched the car through the heavy mid-morning traffic. Freezing rain slapped against the windshield and the silence within the vehicle was accentuated by the squeal as the wipers scraped rhythmically from side to side.

Kelly and Kris sat side by side in the rear of the car; neither one had spoken a word since their initial outburst in the hotel suite. Both were numbed by the news and were struggling to come to terms with the realisation that their friend had gone.

Kelly was staring blankly out of the window, her body angled away from Kris; not wanting to make contact with anyone. Kris' eyes were focussed on the bag on her lap. Tiffany caught sight of her in the rear view mirror, and she looked for all the world as though she were lost.

The traffic forced her to a halt again and she leant forward onto the rim of the steering wheel, glancing up at the freezing ran as it splashed heavily down onto the glass.

"If the weather carries on like this we could see snow before the week is out."

She heard the seat behind her creak, as Kris shifted position to look up at the rain.

"When was the last time you California types saw snow, huh?"

There was silence behind her. If she was honest then she hadn't really expected an answer from either of them; she was just desperate to break the silence that lay heavy in the air.

"It snowed when we were in Vail," Kris replied hollowly."Snowed so much the last day we were there that it was almost a whiteout. I wasn't confident enough to go out in those conditions but ..." she tailed off, not wanting to complete the thought.

Tiffany swore beneath her breath, she'd been trying to get their minds off of Sabrina, not bringing up old memories. She just knew that Kris' sentence had been about to mention their former colleague.

"It was stupid and reckless..."

Kelly's voice made Tiffany jump; she'd assumed that her friend hadn't been listening to what was going on around her; she had seemed so wrapped up in her own thoughts.

"The visibility was so poor ... she could have gotten herself killed." Kelly's voice was hard edged and brittle. "But that's just typical Sabrina, there's no telling her not to do something. You just know she's going to just go ahead and do it anyway; to hell with anyone else and what they may think."

Silence once again enveloped the interior of the car. The atmosphere was heavy, tense – almost like an extra presence in the vehicle.

The quiet was abruptly shattered by the blaring of a car horn. Tiffany raised her head to see an empty stretch of road in front of her. The blare of car horns increased from behind, and Tiffany fumbled with the handbrake, flustered by the sudden intrusion of sound.

* * *

Jarrett thumped at the typewriter keys again. They seemed to be conspiring against him. No matter what he did, they always seemed to spell out some other word than the one he intended.

To his left a red light was blinking impatiently on the phone, indicating that the volume of calls into the station that morning was decidedly higher than usual. Almost every other officer on the shift was already handling calls. He looked pleadingly at the phone – willing it to stop ringing. He had enough on his plate without picking up more work.

The blinking red light continued to flash. Sighing heavily, he abandoned his task and reached forward for the receiver. "Officer Jarrett."

He'd barely had time to let the caller know his name before a stream of panicked words tumbled into his ears. He attempted to get the woman to calm down but she was inconsolable. He reached mutely for a pen. There was another death in the neighbourhood. It wasn't the first reported one of the day, and Jarrett had the sinking feeling that it wasn't going to be the last.

* * *

Tiffany swore loudly at the driver of a battered blue Sedan. Its driver was showing no consideration for other road users, and she had to swerve to avoid it side-swiping her as it swept out of the mortuary car park.

"What the hell is his problem!" Tiffany demanded to know as she fought to regain control of her own rental car.

"Perhaps he just had some bad news," Kelly suggested pointedly. 'People don't usually come here for a casual visit."

Tiffany didn't reply to the comment and concentrated on looking for a space to park.

Straightening up the vehicle she killed the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition. Her two friends remained seated exactly where they were. Tiffany took a deep breath. "Look, if the two of you want to stay here, I completely understand. I'll just go in and I'll come back out as soon as I know anything for definite."

"No," Kelly told her flatly. "I'm coming in there with you. If ... If ..." she fell silent, and Tiffany could tell that Kelly was starting to lose the battle to retain control of her emotions.

"We'll all go in," Kris confirmed.

Tiffany opened the door and reached across to the passenger seat for the umbrella that she'd placed there. The cold air gusted around her and she wondered just how much of a battle it would be to keep the umbrella above her head.

The building in front of them was characterless and functional. It struck Tiffany that although there might be a professional desire to have an austere looking building; its grim facade did little to alleviate the fear that the visitors already had.

She led the way across the parking lot, leaving her two friends to follow her at their own pace.

Kelly was oblivious to the cold rain that whipped around her as she stood at the side of the rental car. She stood there not sure what she should do next. She felt Kris' hand grasp her own with a strength that belied her friend's small stature. She could feel the tremors that were running through Kris and knew that she was fighting to keep control of her emotions. She was grateful for the distraction. Whilst she was thinking about Kris, it kept her own mind from having to face the reality of the situation. It was so unreal, so hard to get her head around. She had broken the news about the loss of a loved one to strangers before; had sat there in the cringingly uncomfortable silence that followed and waited for them to tell her that she had the wrong house, the wrong family – waited for them to get angry and channel all that anger at the one person who had brought the news to them. And then she would watch that anger crumble away as realisation sank in; cold harsh reality breaking through and shattering the frail barriers that their minds had tried to erect.

She wasn't going to cry. She was going to be there to hold Kris' hand, to be the person who looked at the case with cool detachment; only looking for that piece of information that might help them find the person who had done this to their friend. She wasn't going to cry.

* * *

The mortuary technician looked at the three women as they made their way into the room. "It's not going to be pleasant," he warned them. He'd tried telling them that the identification was unnecessary; that someone else had already confirmed the I.D, but the three women had refused to accept his word. They had insisted that they needed to see the body for themselves. He'd thought about referring them to his boss, but knew that that was only going to be viewed as another black mark against him. So he'd given in to their pleading and now was beginning to question whether or not he'd done the right thing. He took a deep breath. "Although she wasn't in the water for long, the current was pretty strong..." he tailed off, hoping that they wouldn't ask him to elaborate further. He cleared his throat nervously. "It also looks as though she sustained serious injuries before she hit the water..." he tailed off again, hoping that the message was getting through, and that they'd change their minds. He'd not been in the job for long, but this was already officially the part of his job that stank the most. It was one thing when people slipped at home, or had heart attacks in the tub; it was another entirely when the end to a person's life was so violent. Seeing firsthand what one human being could do to another had been more of an eye opener than he'd expected.

He'd only done this part of the job on a handful of occasions, and this was the first time where there had been so much damage to the body. His boss had regarded the young woman at the start of his shift and immediately called him over. 'This one's yours' he had told him tersely. At the time he'd thought that this was his boss' way of paying him back for some imagined mistake... but now, as he stared at the expressions on the faces of the women in front of him he realised that the old man was most likely getting to the point where he just couldn't face this part of the job anymore.

The tall brunette nodded tersely at him. "Show me."

Kelly felt Kris' grip on her hand increase as the technician pulled back the white sheet that covered the body. She wanted nothing more than to look away, to turn round and get out of the place as fast as she could. If she were somewhere else then the situation couldn't be real; wouldn't be happening. If Tiffany hadn't jumped on that case that Bosley had offered them then they wouldn't be standing in a mortuary, possibly about to identify the body of one of her closest friends. She wished that she could take time back and alter the course of events. Change things so that they never came out here; never set foot in the city and set off the chain of events that had led to this moment.

She stared mesmerised at the white sheet as it was slowly pulled back; she wanted to look away, wanted nothing more than to look away, but she found that her eyes were irresistibly drawn to the figure that was being revealed. She took in the long dark hair that framed the young woman's face. She gasped as she took in the bruising that heavily marked the woman's features.

"As I said, the current in the water was strong," the technician grunted. "M.E will have a better idea of how much of that damage was caused after the body entered the water."

He pulled the sheet back a little further, before looking at the reactions on the faces of the women in front of him. He knew it was voyeuristic; but there was just something addictive about watching the way that different people handled the situation. Some were caught at a mid-point between acceptance and denial – the battle for emotional supremacy etched on their faces. Some would just break down completely; unable to accept what was literally staring them in the face. There was no hard and fast rule as to who would react in a particular way; the person you thought would be strong, would end up being the one who needed the smelling salts to bring them round, whilst the most fragile of people would stand there with resolute faces and just nod acceptance.

The tall blond-haired woman standing at the back of the small group was a prime example of calm acceptance. The expression on sorrow on her face was reserved solely for the injuries that had been received by the woman on the slab; this was in marked contrast to the other two women in the group. They gripped each other's hands tightly; both wanting the other to be the strong one. He watched as the brunette masked the expression that flitted across her face. He'd missed that initial reaction; now it was replaced with a tougher look of acceptance.

"Ma'am?" he questioned.

The brunette nodded. "That's her." Her voice was quiet, but clear, and he respectfully recovered the body.


	17. Chapter 17

Kelly pushed open the door to the mortuary with more force than was strictly necessary. It slammed back against the wall, and Tiffany reached out to stop it striking her in the face as it bounced back in her direction.

She watched Kelly as her friend stalked across the parking lot; ignoring the rental car and heading straight for the sidewalk and the busy road.

"I'll get her." Kris placed a hand on her arm, before taking off across the lot.

Kris slowed her pace as she finally caught up with her friend, and settled into step with her.

"You want to talk about it?" she questioned gently, trying to ignore the sleeting rain that was falling from the heavens.

Kelly remained silent, still making for the sidewalk ahead.

"Kelly please; talk to me." Kris reached out and placed a hand on Kelly's arm.

Kelly reluctantly came to a halt and spun round to face Kris; her expression was one of anger. "How could she do this to us?" she demanded to know. "How could she let us think that she was dead!"

"Maybe she doesn't know," Kris explained patiently. "There's nothing to say that she had anything to do with what's going on. I think the question we should be asking ourselves is just who is that woman in there we positively identified as Mary Thomas? Doesn't she deserve a proper identification? There could be people out there who are worried about her and why she hasn't come home."

Kelly took a long shuddering breath, knowing that her friend was right but unable to reconcile her own anger at the situation.

"You're right," she conceded reluctantly. "I wouldn't mind finding out just who it was who identified the body before we did. There has to be some reason they want the police to believe that Mary Thomas is dead."

Kris gestured back towards the building. "To be honest I'm still a little confused as to why you did lie back there. Why not put the record straight?"

Kelly pulled a face. "Someone beat us to the identification. It could be an honest mistake, or maybe Bri needs some time without Rickard on her case. Until we know for certain I say that we don't rock the boat until we hear from Bri."

Kris waited for a second or two before asking her question. "You think that we will hear from her again? She seems to have made it pretty damn clear that she doesn't want us in her way."

"She'll be in touch," Kelly said decisively, noting the look that passed across her friend's face. "Maybe Tiff can use her tame cop at the station to find out who named Bri as victim." She let out a long breath and pushed her hands through her hair. "I wonder who she was," she asked finally, nodding back in the direction of the mortuary. "Whatever happens we need to make sure that she gets a name."

Kris slipped an arm around her friend's shoulder, trying to guide her back in the direction of the car. "We'll find out," she promised her. "Charlie suggested that an arrest would be the best way to get Bri away from Rickard; I'm thinking that reports of her death will do just as well." She glanced across and saw the look of indecision on her friend's face. "You did the right thing. All we have to do is make the most of this window of opportunity."

* * *

Sabrina laughed as Michael swaggered across the room, his lip curled, his voice echoing the empty threats that Lewis often made. She wiped at the tears forming at the corner of her eyes as Michael proceeded to give Lewis the most effeminate voice she'd ever heard. She fought through the tears, begging him to stop, but Michael only seemed encouraged by her protests and carried on with his impression.

The scene changed. A bewilderingly abrupt change of location, and Sabrina spun round trying to make sense of what was going on. She was no longer in the sun-bathed glow of the apartment. She was standing in the pitted alleyway that ran behind it. Rain was hammering down into the puddles that filled the potholes, and the air was alive with shouts and cries. She recognised a voice that cried out plaintively into the night sky ... it was her own.

She stared wildly around, her eyes fixing on the group of men off to her right. They had someone surrounded and were kicking out at the figure who was now down on the deck. She tried to move but found that her legs wouldn't respond. She then became aware of the arms that were locked around her, holding her firmly in place. She attempted to struggle against them, but the man's grip only tightened.

She continued to try and free herself, bucking and kicking against the man holding her; instinct taking over from rational thought.

Without warning her world spun again as her head snapped abruptly to one side; she tasted blood on the inside of her mouth and fought to maintain awareness of her surroundings.

A hand gripped her chin and forced her head up. Through the haze of pain she made out Lewis as he towered over her. The glint of a blade was visible in his free hand and her eyes widened in terror as she caught sight of it.

He released the hold on her chin and pressed a finger to her lips, holding it there for a few seconds before turning and heading to the small group. The men were now supporting the weight of the figure they had been beating and Lewis beckoned the group forward into the pool of light that spilled down from the street lamp.

Sabrina barely had time to recognise the bloodied and battered figure before Lewis' hand shot out, driving the knife into the man's stomach.

She screamed out Michael's name as he slumped towards the floor, the supporting hands letting him go on a signal from Lewis. He lay in a heap on the floor, unmoving, blood pooling and being diluted by the rain that still continued to pound relentlessly down upon them.

She felt her limbs shaking in shock as her view of Michael's body was suddenly blocked. She twisted and turned, trying to see him, hoping to see some movement, some proof that he was still alive.

A hand grabbed at her chin again, forcing her head up. She couldn't make out the words that Lewis was saying through the pounding in her ears. He released his grip on her and slapped her hard across the face, before trying again to get her attention. She tried to see round him, her attention still desperately fixed on the motionless figure on the ground. Her head snapped to the side again and Lewis clicked his fingers right in front of her face, forcing her attention back to him.

He spoke again; spitting the words out through the heavy downpour, but again she could make out nothing.

She felt the vice like grip around her loosen, and immediately she started forward. Lewis pushed her roughly back into the arms of the man behind her, and it was only then that she became aware that the men who had just attacked Michael were closing in on her.

She struggled desperately against the hands that held her, and felt others grab at her, holding her tightly in place.

She renewed the struggle as the men stepped closer...

Sabrina sat bolt upright in bed, her face damp with perspiration, her heart pounding at an impossibly fast rate, her cry still echoing around the small room.

She ignored the thumping on the wall from her neighbour as her sense of disorientation lessened and reality came crashing back in. Her body screamed in protest at the sudden movement and she sank back on the bed, the ache from her ribs crowded out by the unrelenting pounding from her head.

She'd had the nightmare again – crystal clear images of the scene came unbidden to her mind and she tried to push them away. It was always the same dream; the same scene replaying itself over and over again. It had been a constant spectre since Michael's death, catching her in an unguarded moment, and reminding her just how that fateful evening had played out. The nightmare was always so vivid, so clear. She could always remember the sound and the feel of the rain as it lashed against her skin, could recall the sound of the police sirens as they rushed by on the street – on their way to some other emergency. She always willed them to come to her aid, but knew that they never would. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away, not wanting to dwell on the events of that evening.

She winced again as she moved slightly. She had staggered in through the door in the early hours of the morning and crashed out on the bed. She cursed her own inattentiveness; it had led to her being snatched from the street. She should have been on the lookout for some sort of payback from Grainger. He'd been angry with her for getting away from him, and then Lewis had stirred the pot some more. She should have guessed that he'd be out to level things.

She'd not recognised the men who had dragged her into the derelict building, and fear had immediately spiked in her mind that Gage might be behind what was happening. If what Kelly had told her was right, then it looked as though Gage had finally lost patience with her and wanted her out of the picture permanently. She'd been slightly relieved to see Grainger step out of the shadows and confront her as she'd struggled against the men who were holding her. Grainger wouldn't kill her; she was certain of that. He wasn't the vindictive type, but he obviously felt as though he had to re-establish his superiority over her.

She'd known what was coming – there was almost a sense of resignation in the air as Grainger had tried to turn up the tension in the room; telling her how he could make her disappear so that no-one would find her again. She'd almost been grateful when he'd finally decided that he'd said enough and let his two thugs get on with what they'd been paid to do.

They'd left her there, amongst the rubble in the derelict house, and she'd remained there for an hour or two, waiting for the pain to subside – not wanting to stress her muscles until she was certain that no serious damage had been done. Bruises healed and painkillers could do a lot to dull the ache from badly bruised ribs, but damage to muscle and bone took longer to repair, and cost money that she just didn't have.

Eventually she forced herself onto her hands and knees and scratched at the floor of the derelict room, reaching for her bag. She'd been paranoid that Grainger would take it, but it was still exactly where it had fallen. She clutched it to her chest, as though in some way she could protect the information that it contained.

She had to get back to her apartment, and then first thing in the morning, had to start work on tracking down the suppliers listed on the documents that she'd found.

It had been a slow and painful journey back to her apartment; the distance was not far but her injuries slowed her down, and she was aware that her state left her open to attention from the opportunist muggers who lurked on the darkened streets.

Finally she made it back to her apartment and dropped fully-clothed down onto the narrow hard bed, pulling the bedclothes over her and letting sleep claim her.

Now she sat, curled up on the bed, her back against the wall, her bedclothes in an untidy heap where she'd fought against them in the throes of her nightmare; her head pounding angrily, and her body aching with the bruising that had been inflicted.

She wrapped her hands around the back of her head and prayed that the headache would subside soon. She closed her eyes and winced as the heavy throbbing continued unabated.

* * *

Lawson cupped his hands around the drink on the table in front of him. Try as he might he couldn't stop the nervous tremors that had been bothering him since the night before. For the first time in ages he wanted a cigarette; wanted something to calm his nerves and get the image of the young woman's face out of his head. The sound she had made as she hit the water was something that he knew was going to haunt his dreams for weeks to come. He'd tried to shake the thoughts, tried to listen to the words that Branning had spoken, but none of it had done any good. She was dead. She hadn't been dead when she'd hit the water, but she'd known what was coming, she'd known that she was about to die.

Lawson swore as the scalding hot coffee splashed over the side of the cup and burnt the tips of his fingers. He ignored the stares from the other patrons in the cafe and did his best to mop up the trail of spilt coffee before it ran off the edge of the table and stained his jacket. He'd taken on the contract from Gage without a second thought, but the reality of the situation had been harder to accept that he'd imagined. The kid was younger than Thomas; only by a few years but she'd still had that look of innocence about her – an expression that he'd almost forgotten about - a look that did nothing to disguise the pure terror in her eyes as Branning had yelled at him to help pitch her battered body into the swirling waters of the East River.

He took deep steadying breaths and cursed Thomas for changing her route. Gage had told them that he didn't care who the body was as long as it was one of Rickard's band, but when it came to making the phone call, Lawson had found that he couldn't bring himself to say that he had no idea of the name of the girl that they had killed. In the muttered phone call he had simply agreed with Gage. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't entirely sure just what he'd said to his boss. He was just glad that it was over.

* * *

"Well?" Rickard sat forward in his chair as Lewis entered the room. He was impatient to know the outcome of the visit to the mortuary – why the hell Lewis hadn't used a public payphone was beyond him.

"It wasn't Thomas out there," Lewis informed Rickard matter-of-factly. "Face was pretty messed up, but it wasn't Thomas."

"Hmmm," Rickard took in the information. "Any idea who it was?"

Lewis scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Can't swear to it but it could have been Lisa Saker... the kid we've had running Thomas' route for the past couple of days."

Rickard closed his eyes. "How sure are you that it was Saker?"

Lewis pulled a face. "Pretty sure. Sorry boss, but as I said her face was pretty messed up."

Rickard sighed. "If only you paid as much attention to all the other runners as you do to Mary Thomas." He settled back into his chair again. "So you told the authorities that it wasn't Thomas?"

Lewis shook his head. "Technician out at Hunters Point was just looking for confirmation that it was her. I figured that if I told him it was someone else then he would start asking how I knew Saker."

"And did it not occur to you to just state that you had no idea who it was?"

"I wasn't the only one out there looking at the body," Lewis sought to move the conversation on and away from his own error. "As I was leaving the mortuary these three women were headed in. Two of them matching the descriptions we had from the landlord."

"Three of them?" Rickard questioned. "They appear to be multiplying! Did you learn anything more about them?"

Lewis pulled a torn sheet of paper from the back pocket of his jeans and dropped it down on the table. Rickard looked disdainfully at the paper. "And what is this?"

"Registration of the car that they were driving. It's a rental," Lewis confirmed as Rickard picked up the scrap of paper.

"And do you know the identity of the renter?"

Lewis shook his head. "There was no-one picking up on the rental firm's answer service this morning."

"And you didn't think to stay behind and find out where they were staying?" Rickard inquired pointedly.

Lewis shrugged his shoulders. "Figured that the rental company would be able to tell me all that. Plus I couldn't be certain that they were there to see the body till after they left."

"And were they?" Rickard prompted after a few moments.

"Sure were. Had a little word with a very jumpy little technician. He confirmed that they also positively identified the body as Thomas. They didn't leave any names with him, just made it clear that they needed to see the body."

"I want the information on that rental car now. I want to know if the name Kelly Garrett is among those listed on the rental agreement, and I want to know where she's staying," Rickard told him with a snarl. "I think it's about time that we closed the net on Miss Garrett."

He watched the expression of confusion that passed across Lewis' face. "Let's just say that the photographs you bought me this morning were more than a little enlightening." Rickard sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together. "There is something else that bothers me. Something that has been nagging away at the back of my mind. Who would care enough about Thomas to report her as missing? I received information early this morning that Thomas' body had been pulled from the East River, but no-one was able to tell me the identity of the kind Samaritan who phoned the information in."

"So?" Lewis failed to understand the importance of the issue.

"So Lewis, someone wanted the information to get back to me quickly. Someone wanted me to believe that Mary Thomas had been taken out of the game."

Lewis frowned. "You think maybe Harry Gage ..."

Lewis' comment was lost as the phone on the desk in front of Rickard burst into life. Rickard snatched at the receiver, barking at the receptionist on the other end of the line, reminding her that he'd told her implicitly that he didn't want to be disturbed. After a brief exchange of words he replaced the receiver in its cradle and pushed his chair away from the table, rising to his feet.

Moments later the door to his office opened and a trolley was wheeled into the room. A lavishly gift-wrapped basket was balanced on the top of it – a small card tucked into the folds of the cellophane wrapping.

Rickard strode across the room, snatching at the card as he took in the contents of the basket.

He scanned the short printed message, before closing his fist around the card and dashing it to the floor.

"I want Gage's head on a plate," he ranted, turning on his heel and pacing over towards the window.

Lewis watched the sudden change in emotion and his eyes immediately fell on the card that was lying screwed up on the carpet. He bent down to retrieve it, reading the contents as he straightened back up.

The script was elaborate, the letters swirling across the small card. 'With deepest condolences for your loss,' the card read. Harry Gage's signature scratched across the bottom in minute handwriting.

"If Gage wants to play the game this way, then I think it's only right that we should step up to the plate." Rickard snarled as he cracked his knuckles. "I want Gage to know that he can't take this kind of action without expecting some kind of payback. Get the boys out onto the street. I want one of Gage's runners taken out. I don't care which one; I don't care how it's done. I just want Gage to be in no doubt as to who he's messing with."

Lewis nodded towards the gift card in his hand. "You want that we should send a similar message back to him?"

Rickard's eyes narrowed. "I want one of Gage's runners dead. That message should be clear enough even for him. And when that's taken care of, I want Thomas here. I think it's time we straightened a few things out."


	18. Chapter 18

_**Well this chapter doesn't look much like the one I was working on last week. Apologies for the delay; I had some major tidying up to do to stop this story becoming the longest one on the net. Thanks for your patience.**_

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Sabrina swore beneath her breath, as yet another pedestrian on the sidewalk cannoned into her. She ignored the filthy look that she received in return and simply pushed her own way through the press of people around her. She'd been in the city too long – gone were the days when she might greet the accidental bump with an apology, now it was assumed that the other pedestrian was automatically in the wrong. She wondered just when she'd become so used to such things.

She wore her baseball cap pulled down low, hoping that it would go some way to shielding her from the prying eyes of others. She'd set out from her apartment with a list of things that she needed to get done, but now, as she was moving across town it was becoming more and more obvious that the bruising on her face was attracting attention that she could well do without. She'd downed more painkillers than was recommended in an attempt to numb the pain from her back and ribs, but there was still discomfort with every step that she took. If what Kelly had told her was right, then the police were on the look out for her. At the moment she was out of her regular neighbourhood and she hoped that she'd be able to avoid the attention of the patrol officers in the Midtown precinct, but she had to go back to the Lower East Side soon, and that was when things were likely to get difficult. She had to make the rest of the day count. There were two tasks remaining on her list of things to do, and then she hoped that she would finally be able to spring the trap that would ensnare Rickard.

She glanced up as she crossed the next junction. She was only a block away from the hotel where Kris and Kelly were staying. As realisation dawned, she felt the pull to go and see them; to make sure that they were ok; that they were going to move out as she'd warned Kelly that they should. Another voice in her head told her that she should leave them well alone. She should finish what she'd started and then, and only then, could she see them. She turned off of 8Th Avenue and onto 48th Street. The Belvedere was ahead of her on the left hand side. There was no harm in just walking past the building; just checking that nothing was amiss she told herself.

The entrance to the hotel was set back off the street, a small driveway permitted cabs to set down and pick up, and a smart suited concierge stood guard over his small domain, directing those around him. Sabrina slowed to a halt as she neared the building, her heart sinking as she watched the concierge prowl back and forth across the steps of the entranceway. From the way that he was looking down his nose at the couple who had just stopped to ask him directions, he was not likely to allow her access to the hotel. She chewed the inside of her cheek nervously. She owed it to Kelly and Kris to warn them that Rickard was potentially onto them. She knew the number of the suite from her previous visit, but if she couldn't get past the front door then that information was going to be of limited value. She weighed up her options. There would be a service entrance. If she could get in that way there was a good chance that she would be able to bluff her way through the rest of the building. It all came down to the subtle art of looking as though she belonged. If she managed to look as though she knew where she was going, then people were less likely to query what she was doing.

First things first, she had to work her way around the building and find the right entrance. She pushed herself away from the pillar she'd been leaning against, only to quickly retake her position. She felt her heart rate ratchet up as she saw the unmistakable figure of Lewis walking nonchalantly towards the concierge.

She swore loudly, not caring this time about the reaction that caused. If Lewis already knew where Kris and Kelly were staying then she was too late. She pushed herself back against the pillar, trying to keep Lewis in her sight without him being able to see her. If he entered the lobby then she'd have to make a dash for it. She couldn't risk the chance that he was there on other business – if he entered the hotel then she** had** to follow him.

She watched as he struck up a conversation with the uniformed man and wished that she was close enough to hear what was being said. The shorter man's body language spoke volumes however. He puffed up his chest and seemed ready to dismiss Lewis and send him on his way. But as Sabrina watched, something changed. She watched as he shook his head vigorously, taking a step back as though he wanted nothing more than to distance himself from the taller man.

Lewis closed the gap again and forced the concierge to take another step back. He shook his head again but Lewis didn't seem as though he was satisfied with the answer he'd been given. There followed another heated exchange and then Lewis gestured angrily at the man before pushing past him and heading into the hotel lobby.

Sabrina froze. She couldn't let Lewis find them. She just couldn't. She took a deep breath and forced herself to move away from the pillar. She had to see what happened at the front desk.

The blare of a car horn caused her to jump. She turned her head and became aware of a man who was shouting angrily in her direction. He was leaning out the window of his car and yelling at her. Without realising what she was doing, she had stepped out into the path of an approaching taxi. The driver had hit the brakes in time but had come perilously close to hitting her. She stared at him mutely, trying to take in what had happened.

He lent on the horn again, now attracting the attention of the concierge. Sabrina forced herself to move forward; aware that her route was putting her on an intercept course with the uniformed man.

"What the hell are you doing?" The concierge grabbed her elbow and guided her away from the front entrance. "You want to get yourself killed; I suggest you go take a leap off the Brooklyn Bridge."

Sabrina twisted her arm, trying to pull away from his grip, but he held firm.

"I need to get inside," she told him, immediately realising that she had said the wrong thing. "The man you were just speaking to ... he's looking for my friends. I have to make sure that he doesn't find them."

The concierge looked her up and down, trying to decide if she was drunk or just crazy. "I can assure you that no-one who would call you a friend is likely to be in The Belvedere. Now just get away from here before I call the police."

Sabrina took a pace to one side, trying to see past the officious man and into the lobby. She had to know what Lewis was up to.

"I'm warning you," she heard the man threaten. She tuned him out as best as she could.

Obviously annoyed at the fact that she wasn't listening to him, the concierge attempted to pull her further away from the front entrance.

Sabrina twisted away again, this time succeeding in breaking the man's hold on her. She stepped up to the tall plate glass windows and tried to stare inside. She caught a glimpse of Lewis arguing with the receptionist, before a hand closed over her arm again and pulled her away.

"I need to make sure that no-one tells him anything," she turned and pleaded with the man.

"Is there some trouble here?" a voice off to her left asked. She turned to see two uniformed officers approaching. She tore her arm free from the concierge's grip. She couldn't afford to be arrested, not now. Swearing beneath her breath she dodged round the pedestrians who were starting to gather and attempted to blend back in with the passing crowd.

"The woman's crazy," she heard the concierge tell the officers as she moved away. She ducked her head down and weaved her way through the throng of people on the street, ignoring the way that her body protested at the movement. The sight of Lewis at the front desk played heavily on her mind. She had to get the message to them to get out of the hotel. Even if Lewis didn't gain the information he was after on this visit, she knew that he was unlikely to give up. She had to find a way into the hotel, she had to warn them.

* * *

The silence in the car was as awkward as it had been on the journey out to Hunter's Point. Tiffany, once again, was glad to be driving. She could keep her attention firmly focused on the road ahead of her and pretend not to notice the atmosphere that was building around her.

"I'll drop you off and then I'll head back to the precinct house." She glanced quickly down at her watch. "Jarrett should still be there. I'll see if he can't tell me a little more about who called the body in as Mary Thomas."

"Be careful," Kris warned her from her place in the back. "We don't want to tip his hand."

"Don't worry. I'm not about to let on to Thornford that Sabrina's still out there to be brought in on murder charges."

Kris leant back in her seat and tilted her head up towards the roof of the car. "I wonder who that poor woman was back there?" She closed her eyes as an unwanted image of the body came before her eyes. "How did no-one see what happened to her?"

"It could so easily have been Bri," Kelly muttered quietly.

Kris turned her head in the direction of her friend. It was the first thing she had said since they pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm sorry?"

"She could have died at any point in the last eighteen months and we wouldn't have known anything about it," Kelly spoke so softly that Kris barely heard her. "Standing in that sterile room and looking down at that body... It could so easily have been Bri, and if we'd not come to the city, we could have lost her and not known anything about it." She balled her hands into tight fists. "If Rickard thinks that she's dead then this is our best chance of getting her out of the city. I don't care if she doesn't want to come with us; I'm not going through anything like that again."

Kris hesitated, wanting to choose her words carefully. "Do you think that's wise?" she asked gently. "If she doesn't want to come then..."

"... What? We should just leave her here so that someone can take her life when the mood takes them?"

"I'm not saying that," Kris tried to placate her friend. 'I'm just saying that if we scare her off, we may never see her again."

Kelly fell silent as she realised that Kris had a point. "I'm going to see Rickard," she announced finally. "There has to be a way to get to Bri through him."

"I thought that was the one thing that Bri advised against," Kris reminded her; aware that once again she seemed to be on the opposite side of an argument with her friend.

"Well I can't just sit here," Kelly told her impatiently. "What's to say that the next body pulled from the river won't be Sabrina's?"

Kris knew that Kelly was right. There was a very real possibility that Sabrina's actions could result in her losing her life. She pushed herself back into her seat, wishing that her friend had not just put that thought into her head.

Tiffany took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to say wasn't going to go down well, but having listened to the exchange between her two friends knew that she had to say something. "When you last met Sabrina, you yourself said that she wasn't the person that you went through the academy with." She paused, waiting for Kelly to process the information. "I think we should be asking ourselves just how involved with her cover she's become."

"What do you mean?"

"You said that she had immersed herself within Rickard's organisation; had you considered the possibility that maybe she's lost all sense of where to draw the line," Tiffany concluded the thought; knowing that she was the only one in the car who wasn't in some way emotionally invested in the situation."Whilst I was at the station house Sergeant Thornford indicated that she had been arrested more than once for possession of controlled substances. How certain can we be that she's still on the right side of the law?"

Kelly bristled at the question. Kris immediately put a hand on her friend's arm to stop her from reacting.

"Trust me," Kris told her calmly. "Bri is one of the good guys."

Tiffany rolled her eyes. "That's not the side of her I've seen," she reminded them. "Can you really be certain that she's not been changed by the time she's spent working with people like Rickard? I mean you live in that sort of world for long enough...on your own with no contact to your old life ..." she let the sentence tail off, not really wanting to finish it, but not wholly convinced that she was on the wrong track.

Kelly shook her head decisively, pulling away from Kris. "I know Sabrina better than you do. She wouldn't change like that."

"And what about Mary Thomas," Tiffany found that she couldn't let the matter drop. "Just how well do you know her?" She glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the confusion on Kelly's face. "I really don't want to be the one sitting here playing devil's advocate, but this is something that I think we have to consider. She has a file at the station house that reads like any other small time criminal. What if this has become a cover that's become too big to handle." She saw that Kelly was about to disagree with her and so ploughed on. "She has no back up and no escape at the end of the day. She is living this cover twenty-four hours a day. I think you have to at least admit to the possibility that she's been consumed by it. You said yourself that the Sabrina you know wouldn't have set me up on the street to be robbed, but it happened and your friend **was** behind it."

Kelly shook her head, trying to square away everything that she'd heard. She wanted to tell Tiffany that she was wrong; that her friend wasn't the sort of person that Tiffany was describing, but she found that she didn't have the answers.

Finally she let out a long sigh and raised her head to meet her friend's questioning gaze. "I understand what you're saying Tiff, but I'm not prepared to give up on her. She needs our help; I'm going to make sure that she gets it. If you don't want in, I fully understand..."

"I'm in," Tiffany quickly assured her. "I just have my reservations. I think we need to at least entertain the notion that your friend has changed. If we're looking for who named the body pulled from the river as Mary Thomas, then I don't think we can immediately discount Sabrina. What better way to gain some breathing space than by deflecting attention away from yourself?"

Kelly didn't reply; she had to grudgingly admit that Tiffany had a point.

* * *

Sabrina stood in the middle of the suite and took in every small detail. On one end of the sofa a paperback book had been carelessly discarded. She knew without looking that the corners of several pages would be turned down. It was a habit of Kris' that had driven her to distraction when Kris had first joined the agency.

Her father had drummed into her at an early age that a book was a thing to be loved and respected; spines were not to be broken, pages not to be creased or turned down. She had always followed his words, and it had made her flinch whenever Kris picked up a new book. She knew that the book would not look new for long; within a day or two it would look slightly dog-eared and the worse-for-where.

She remembered Kelly patting her gently on the arm, trying to tell her subtly that it was something that she'd have to learn to let go.

Turning away from the book she glanced around the rest of the apartment; taking in all the other small tell-tale touches that told her that her friends were staying within the suite.

Pushing aside the melancholy feeling that settled upon her shoulders, she pulled out the short note that she'd scribbled upon a sheet of the hotel's own headed notepaper and regarded it. She questioned her own decision to arrange another meeting with Kelly; their last contact hadn't been easy, and had left her feeling more isolated than she had in months. The information on the scrap of paper was minimal. She read and reread the note, trying to decide whether or not she was doing the right thing in once again breaking her own rule about leaving evidence that could be linked back to her.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she made her decision. She paced across the thick carpet and placed the note down on the glass-topped coffee table. There was always the chance that no-one would be back in the suite before the end of the day, in which case the meeting time would have passed. For that reason she had added the information about Lewis – had named him – hoping that an offer of information would go some way to making them realise that she was serious about the threat he posed.

Looking around the room one last time, she then headed back towards the door, trying to quash the memories she had of staying in such accommodation. It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

* * *

Kelly opened the door to the hotel suite and stepped inside. She felt drained. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the tub and let the warm water ease her aching muscles, but she knew that she couldn't give in to her body's demands just yet. Sabrina was still out there and they needed to find her.

She let her purse drop down upon the floor and made her way over to the window. She heard Kris enter the suite behind her, but did nothing to acknowledge her.

"You ok?" Kris' voice floated across the room.

Kelly let out a heavy sigh and let her shoulders sag. "I have to call him," she reluctantly admitted, knowing the reaction she would receive. "I have to call Rickard."

There was no response from her friend, but Kelly could picture the expression on her face.

"I know what Tiffany said, but there has to be something positive we can do. I've got Rickard's card, I can make contact with him."

"And say what?" Kris countered. "What is it that he thinks you do?"

"He thinks I'm in business."

"And you don't think he'll have researched your name and worked out that you're not on the level?"

Kelly shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wondering if she should tell Kris the name that she'd given to Rickard. She decided, on balance, that it was probably best to keep the information to herself. "I didn't exactly tell him the truth," she admitted.

She was expecting further pressure from Kris, and was surprised when none was forthcoming. She turned and saw her friend standing at the coffee table, a folded piece of paper held loosely between two fingers.

"I'd say we had a visitor whilst we were away," Kris finally spoke up. "The note's addressed to you Kelly."

Kelly crossed the room in seconds, taking the note from Kris' hands and scanning its contents eagerly.

She finally raised her head and saw the impatient look on Kris' face. "She wants us to move out of here."

"What, she went to the trouble of breaking in here just to tell us that? I don't buy it."

"She states that one of Rickard's men is on our trail, and that it's not safe for us to remain here anymore."

Kris raised an eyebrow. "You believe her?"

Kelly held up the note as evidence. "If you'd seen the way she was paranoid about not committing things to paper, then you'd appreciate the importance of this." She paused and met Kris' gaze. "She wants a meeting."

"Where?"

Kelly glanced up at the clock on the wall. 'At the South Ferry terminal in less than an hour. If I'm going to go, I'd better head off now."

Kris cast her eyes towards the ground. "Just you?"

"I think it best," Kelly told her softly. "She's left a name here for us. Rickard's man; the one she thinks is following us. Can you look into it for me? Ask at the front desk, try and find out if we do have someone on our trail..."

"And arrange another hotel if we do," Kris finished for her. "Sure." She hesitated before asking her next question. "What are you going to do if Bri refuses to come in?"

"She'll listen."

"And if she doesn't?" Kris let the question hang in the air.

"Then we're going to have to take more direct action," Kelly answered firmly.

* * *

Sabrina stood at the rail and gasped as the freezing air crashed against her. The air passed so quickly across her face that it took her a few moments before she was able to catch her breath. Despite the freezing conditions she was not the only passenger standing at the rail of the ferry.

Turning her head she could just make out the outline of the Statue of Liberty through the heavy fog that hung in the air. She shivered and pulled her coat more tightly around her shoulders. She'd ridden the Staten Island Ferry before, but that felt like a lifetime ago. She had been in the city with her father on one of the rare times that Army life permitted him taking time away. The weather had been awful, and her father had spent most of the first few days apologising for it as though it was in some way his fault.

A swirling gust of wind blew her hair across her face, and the moment was lost. Feeling herself very much in the present, Sabrina pushed the hair away, tucking it back under the rim of her ball cap, cursing beneath her breath at the clumsiness of trying to do anything with frozen fingers.

"This better be important," a low voice growled in her ear. "I'm not accustomed to being summoned."

Sabrina kept staring straight ahead, well aware that the man had only just stopped himself from ending the sentence with the phrase 'by people like you'. She chose to ignore the attitude; it was one that she was all too used to. "Oh, I'd say this was important," she reassured him. "For the price of a quarter, you're about to learn something that could make you a fortune."

Sabrina sensed the man's interest increase. He leant on the rail and stared out at the solitary tourist boat that was struggling in the choppy water. "You'd better deliver after an opening pitch like that," he told her flatly.

"Don't I always," she forced the smile to her face as she spoke.

She saw the corners of the man's mouth twitch into a smile before he replied. Privately, she found the man repulsive, but she had always done her best to make him believe that he was a valued customer.

"What you deliver is usually whatever it is you're told to," he reminded her unkindly. "Although I was more than a little surprised to see that you made it here."

"Surprised? Why?"

"It's not every day that someone rises from the grave."

"What?"

He smiled at the way that he'd successfully wrong-footed her. He glanced in her direction and immediately took in the bruising that marked her face. "Looks as though the rumours were nearly true." He paused, glaring at two tourists who were trying to ask him to take a photograph for them. After a few moments they got the hint and moved away. "I'd heard that you'd taken an ill-advised swim this morning; had to be fished out by the cops." He shrugged his shoulders. "Looks as though you changed your route at the right time."

Sabrina felt numb as she took in the words that her contact was saying. "Where did you hear this piece of fiction?" She tried to keep her voice casual.

The man smiled. "There's not a cop on the Lower East Side who isn't celebrating your passing. They're going to be mighty pissed when they find that you're still alive." He took a breath. "I get the feeling that it's only going to be a stay of execution."

Sabrina picked nervously at the flaking orange paint on the rail. "I came here to offer you some information; not listen to this garbage." She glanced at the approaching shoreline. "We've only got a few minutes until this trip is over. You want to discuss my private life, or do you want to do business."

The man shot her a dark look. "Let's hear what you have to offer."


	19. Chapter 19

**_Sorry this is late ... er ... my dog ate it!_**

**_Ok, so I don't have a dog and this has never been on the printed page... what can I say, I'm lousy at coming up with good excuses on the spot! :)_**

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* * *

_**Tiffany made her way into the station house, earning a nod of acknowledgement from the desk sergeant as she crossed the entrance hall. She never ceased to be amazed at the way that people were willing to accept outsiders into their midst without really checking that they were who they said they were. Whilst it was true that she'd used some old contacts from home to help bolster the cover, a thorough investigation into her claimed identity would quickly reveal that she was a fraud. She nodded back in the direction of the sergeant and made her way into the squad room.

As she pushed open the door, she immediately became aware of a different atmosphere in the room. Tension was obviously high. There was nervous chatter from the officers present; the easy banter that had filled the place during her first couple of visits had been replaced by quick, precise conversations.

She made her way over to Jarrett's desk, pleased to see that he was still there. He looked up briefly at her, as she cast a shadow across his desk, and sketched her a quick wave before returning all his attention to the work in front of him. She waited for him to put the file he was looking at to one side to talk to her, but when that didn't happen, she sat down in the chair that was placed at the end of his desk; determined to wait him out.

After a few moments he seemed to realise that she was still there, and raised his head slowly.

"I don't have time to talk to you," he hissed, glancing in the direction of Thornford who was prowling the squad room.

Tiffany followed the young officer's eye line. "What's going on?" she whispered back.

Jarrett waved for her to lower her voice even further. "You can't be in here today," he told her shortly.

"You're going to have to do better than that," she informed him. "I'm not moving from here till you tell me what's going on. Where's the fire?"

Jarrett held her gaze for a few moments. "Alright," he finally relented. "But if Thornford comes over, then you've got to explain to him what you're doing here."

"Deal."

Jarrett weighed things up again before finally reaching a decision. "It's all going to hell out there," he told her in a hushed whisper. "We've had six confirmed deaths so far. Word is that it's likely to go into complete meltdown if we can't stop it soon."

"What's going on?"

Jarrett shrugged his shoulders. "Dispute between two dealers has got way out of hand ... that's the usual story. The two of them will take chunks out of each other until there's nowhere left to stack the bodies at the ER."

Tiffany was on full alert. "Any idea of the parties involved?"

"There are some things you're better off not knowing," Jarrett told her honestly. "Sticking your head above the parapet is likely to see it blown off."

Tiffany nodded her understanding. "Ok, OK... I'm not about to go out on the street and start asking stupid questions ... but I'm guessing that I wouldn't be wide of the mark if I were to suggest that Warren Rickard was involved in this somewhere."

Jarrett sucked the air in over his teeth at the suggestion. "You go around saying things like that and you may want to think about what music you want played at your funeral."

"Come on," Tiffany pushed a little further. "Surely it's an open secret these days? Rickard's financial set up just doesn't add up. There's one very obvious way for him to increase his income."

Jarrett motioned for her to be silent. "I wouldn't even joke about something like that. Rickard's got a lot of powerful friends in the city. Friends who could see you despatched promptly from this neighbourhood – possibly minus your head! Just keep those sorts of thoughts to yourself. Trust me; it's safer."

Tiffany held up her hands. "Ok ok, I get the message. Just how far do you think his influence extends?"

Jarrett shook his head. "That's not something I want to even think about."

Tiffany gestured around the room. "You think he has influence here? You think he has the power to cover up anything that he wants?"

Jarrett motioned for her to be quiet. "You want to see me back out on the street?"

Tiffany shook her head. "I'm not here looking to get you into trouble," she whispered as another officer passed the desk and shot the pair of them a suspicious look. "But if you had to put your money on one person in this station being involved, who would it be?"

Jarrett looked around nervously. "Thornford," he answered finally. "There's something going on with him. He keeps files in his office. Files that should be in the system. Files that we should all have access to. He keeps them, and he decides who investigates them."

Tiffany nodded. "I've seen the cabinet. He showed me the file he has on Mary Thomas."

Jarrett shook his head. "There's more. There are other files, other cases that he keeps to himself. Witness statements that aren't in the main files in the system; information that just isn't there when the case is supposed to go to court."

"You think someone's paying him to sit on this?"

Jarrett shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not paid enough to worry about it. If you've got sense then you'll get what you need for your story and leave the rest of it for someone who's got an army of lawyers behind them." He took in the expression on her face. "You can stand there and be disgusted if you want, but I don't want to end my days as just another piece of city landfill. For every successful Watergate expose there are a hundred well-intentioned investigations that are snuffed out before a single word makes the printed page." He nodded in the direction of the door. "There are people getting killed out there for just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. No-one's going to notice just another piece of collateral damage. That's all I'd be; just another unfortunate victim of crime."

Tiffany shook her head. "There has to be some way of stopping this."

Jarrett shrugged his shoulders. "Thornford's not called for any outside support on this. I'm guessing that he's just planning to sit back and let what he's calling a 'domestic dispute' blow over."

"And just how many deaths will there be until one side decides that enough's enough?"

Jarrett shrugged again. "This time ... who knows. But no-one in this city is going to care; no newspaper is going to give it more than a few column inches. As far as they're concerned it's just a convenient way of clearing some of the crud off the streets. Now, if one of their own were to be hit, then there'd be a storm. Whilst it's still the homeless and the drug runners taking it, then no-one's going say anything."

Tiffany shook her head in disgust. "People just let this happen?"

"What do you expect them to do? They get themselves involved and it's an even bet that they'll be taken out by one side or the other." Jarrett shrugged his shoulders. "You've got a lot to learn about life in this part of the city. The best thing is to batten down the hatches and wait for it to burn itself out."

"What... and then Thornford moves in to clear away the bodies, wash the blood from the sidewalk, and everyone carries on as though nothing happened?"

Jarrett looked at her levelly. "Something like that."

* * *

Sabrina shrugged down deeper into her jacket and allowed herself to be carried along in the press of people, all eager to disembark the ferry and make their way home at the end of another working day. She ignored the barbed comments and shoves in the back as those behind her struggled to get past; her mind too wrapped up with other matters. The ferry trip had been a productive one. Once she had persuaded the man to listen to her, she had been able to fill in some of the missing pieces in the jigsaw. She was beginning to understand just how complicated the relationships between Rickard's various business dealings were. He kept everything as separate as possible – that much she'd always known, but she hadn't realised just how small, yet important, some of the players were. She replayed the conversation in her head, trying to persuade herself that her argument had been a convincing one. If her plan was going to work then she would need his co-operation. She immediately corrected herself; if her plan was going to work then she would need the co-operation of over half-a-dozen disparate parties.

She was close now, so close. That thought should have filled her with a sense of satisfaction, but there was nothing there – nothing but a sense of emptiness. Her mind kept going back over the news she'd been told. A woman's body had been pulled from the East River; someone had named her as the victim. She felt the shiver as in ran the length of her spine. Lisa Saker; she feared that the body pulled from the river would turn out to be Saker's She'd only met the girl on a handful of occasions, but Rickard had been grooming her to take over the route that she'd been running. She couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt. That should have been her run; it should have been her out on the street not Saker. She closed her eyes and wished that she could turn the clock back and stop Saker from taking the journey. The girl had only been in the city for a few months; she was certain that she'd had family still. If only she'd taken the time to talk to her; to try and persuade her that the life that Rickard was offering her was not something to be embraced... but she'd said nothing; hadn't wanted to draw attention to herself. She knew that the guilt she was beginning to feel over Saker's death would be with her for a long time to come.

* * *

Kelly slowly turned the rack of postcards and watched as the ferry passengers began to disembark. She was beginning to worry that she'd arrived at South Ferry too late. She'd already attracted the attention of a concerned sales assistant who couldn't understand exactly what she was finding so fascinating among the rack of cheap mass-produced postcards. Kelly had flashed her a smile and passed off some explanation about wanting to surprise a friend. That and a purchase of a nasty tacky souvenir had been enough to make the woman leave her alone.

Now she began to fear that she'd been too late and that her trip had been wasted. She was just about to leave her place when a pair of eyes locked onto her own. Their expression was unreadable. Kelly waited impatiently for her friend to take her place on the opposite side.

"Where have you been?" she hissed at Sabrina as she turned the rack again. "I've been waiting in this Godforsaken place for over an hour! I was beginning to think that you were planning on staying over there." She raised her head to glare at her friend, her expression changing in a heartbeat to one of shock as she took in the black eye and the swollen lip that her friend was now sporting. She looked a little closer, and saw the tell tale signs of bruising forming on her cheeks. "Oh my God," the words fell from her horrified lips. "What happened?"

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. "Someone took objection to me giving him the slip," she replied simply. "Wanted to make sure that I understood who the boss was."

Kelly shook her head, unable to understand the casual way that her friend explained away the violence that she had suffered.

"And you can stop that," Sabrina told her impatiently. "I don't need you making value judgements about everything that I do."

"But look at the state of you," the words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop. This wasn't the way that she'd rehearsed the conversation. She'd planned a much more subtle approach; a gentle winning over of her friend. She felt her heart sink as she took in the expression on Sabrina's face; she'd well and truly blown that plan now.

"I'm sorry," she attempted to placate her friend, but she sensed that the barriers had already started to be erected between them. "You can't blame me for worrying. It's been something of a ..."

"I need you to get out of the city," Sabrina cut across Kelly's words as though they were unimportant. "I know that Rickard's onto you and Kris. It was just luck this afternoon that you didn't blunder into the path of his trained thug." Her expression softened. "Please; I need you to trust me. I need a couple more days to tidy this whole thing up, and then we can talk." She scanned her friend's face, watching for a reaction. "I'm nearly there," she insisted as she pushed the carousel of cards around and headed across the gift shop.

Kelly fought against the urge to tell her friend that nothing was worth what she appeared to be putting herself though. She knew that Bri wouldn't listen to her; when she'd made her mind up about something there was little point in trying to get her to change her mind. There were times in the past where she admired her friend's single-mindedness, but equally there were times where her determination had nearly landed them all in trouble.

She took a deep breath and followed Bri across the store, taking up a position next to her in one of the aisles. She picked blindly at one of the garish souvenirs that were placed on the shelf in front of her.

"This isn't your own personal crusade," she spoke the words with more anger than she'd intended, and saw the way that Sabrina flinched. "I'm sorry," she apologised quickly. "It's just that I can't stand here and see you like this without saying something. It seems as though every time I see you you've picked up more bruises." She reached out a hand, but Sabrina shrugged off the gesture. "I think you've gotten too involved in this. What was the golden rule of working for Charlie? Never get personally involved in a case." She turned her head to glance briefly at her friend. "I think you're so deep in this that you can no longer see the bigger picture. You need to take a step back; get a little perspective."

"Perspective!" Sabrina hissed the word, trying not to draw the attention of the other shoppers in the store. "Kelly, Warren Rickard sells death on the streets every day of the week. You think that I should just stand back and let him and his flunkies screw with the lives of those who are least able to fight back? I can't walk away from this, and I can't believe that you of all people would ask me to."

"I know what happened to Michael." Kelly told her quietly, risking another glance in her friend's direction; trying to see if there was any kind of reaction. There was the briefest of pauses before Sabrina continued picking blindly at the souvenirs on the shelf in front of her.

Kelly considered her next sentence carefully. "I understand that this is personal to you, but I really think that you need to step away from it... let us handle it."

"Handle it," Sabrina spat the words out. "Just what makes you think that you're in any sort of position to handle it? There are people in this city who are looking for you because they've seen you with me. They are not the sort of people who are going to want to sit down over a coffee and a croissant and ask what you're up to. They are going to kill you. They are not going to ask questions, they are going to kill you and then they are going to kill me. There is only one way that this is going to work, and that is for you to let me to finish what I've started and nail Rickard's head to the wall."

"And what's the cost to you?" Kelly countered; stung by the venom in the words that Bri had spoken. "My God, have you any idea what we've been through in the past couple of days? We thought you were dead. The local police are all convinced of it. It wasn't until we saw the body at the mortuary that we realised that you were still alive."

Sabrina stiffened. "Did you tell anyone that it wasn't me?"

"What do you mean did we ..."Kelly's expression changed as she took in the way her friend was reacting. "Tell me you're kidding? Tell me you didn't set this up?"

"No I didn't, but I need time," Sabrina protested. "I'm in the middle of something and I just need a little more time. Tell me what you told the man at the mortuary."

Kelly shook her head in disbelief as she tried to take in what Sabrina was saying.

"A girl is dead Bri. It could have been you. She is dead and you're standing there telling me that her death is convenient! Have you any idea how that sounds?"

"Rickard is starting an all out war with a rival. That girl's death was the first shot across the bows. It's going to get worse, and whilst it does Rickard will get more and more careless. This is my time to make a difference, and nothing is going to stop me doing that. Not you, not Kris and certainly not Charlie. I'm just asking you to trust me on this. I can't fight a war on two fronts, and God knows I'm not looking for a fight with you, but I need you trust me, and I don't feel certain that you do."

Kelly remained silent for a few moments, not certain how to reply to her friend, the image of the body in the morgue flashing before her eyes.

"Charlie thought you were dead," she finally announced, keeping her voice low. "You disappeared off of the radar for so long that Charlie thought you were dead!"

Sabrina shook her head, not wanting to believe the words that Kelly was saying.

"When he sent the last message to you, he didn't know what had happened to Michael. He thought that you were both in danger and wanted you both to walk away."

"He should have known that I couldn't do that."

"You can now. Walk away," Kelly tried again to persuade her friend. "Please, whilst you still can."

"And if I don't what then?" Sabrina countered.

"I'm sorry?"

"What are you going to do? You come here with your ultimatums, just what are you going to do if I don't fall into line with your demands?"

"Fine," Kelly's fraying patience finally snapped. "You want to throw everything away, want to martyr yourself at your chosen altar ... go ahead. I'm not going to stop you. Just don't expect me to cry for you when Rickard extinguishes your life without a second thought. I stood in a mortuary this morning, scared half out of my mind that it was going to be you on the slab. I can't do that again... I **won't **do that again."

Sabrina had no come back; stunned by the anger in her friend's voice. Kelly caught the look and immediately wanted to take back the words that she'd said but it was too late.

"Listen," she tried to get sense through to her friend. "With Charlie's help, we can get you out of here. As soon as the cops realise that it wasn't you they pulled from the river they are going to come looking for you. If you let them take you in then Charlie can arrange the bail. You can be lifted out of this city and Rickard won't know where you've gone."

Sabrina shook her head. "That's not the way it works. Rickard owns this part of the city..."

"...but he doesn't own the whole country. If you disappear, I understand the fear that he might come looking for you, but if you're arrested then it's possible that you can be transferred out of state. Every avenue he tries to follow will point towards that answer. We **can **get you out of this without arousing suspicion."

Kelly looked imploringly at her friend.

"Hey!" A shout broke the silence that had fallen between the two women. There was a tone of authority in the voice and Kelly watched the way that Sabrina's eyes flashed immediately in that direction, as though she expected trouble to be headed her way.

Kelly followed her gaze and spotted two uniformed police officers standing at the entrance to the store; next to them was the sales assistant who had been eyeing her suspiciously for the past hour.

"I'm out of here," Sabrina whispered beneath her breath, and began edging slowly away. "Just promise me that you'll get out of the hotel. Rickard is onto you."

Kelly was about to berate her friend for being so paranoid when a look of recognition flashed across the face of one of the uniformed officers.

"Hold it there Thomas. Don't even think about running."

Kelly saw a flash of movement across from her, and the next moment Sabrina had pushed over one of the postcard racks in an attempt to keep some distance between herself and the officers that were rapidly closing in on her position. She bolted for the exit, but it was a hopeless gesture in the state she was currently in; the two officers had her cornered within seconds.

Kelly watched wordlessly as one of the uniformed officers grabbed Sabrina by the arm and twisted it behind her back before hauling her none too gently from the store and then pushing her up against the wall and roughly searching her. The officer standing behind intoned her rights with the minimum of interest, only pausing to stifle a laugh, as his partner tightened the first of the metal cuffs too tightly around Sabrina's wrist, causing her to yelp with pain.

As she was pulled away from the wall and spun round, Sabrina glanced up and her gaze locked with Kelly's; her eyes wide with a mixture of anger and hurt.

Kelly wanted to call out and tell her that the police presence was nothing to do with her, but she knew that getting involved was going to mean that she'd end up in a weaker position when it came to trying to get Sabrina out of jail.

She stood by as the two officers bundled Sabrina into the back of their patrol car, before pulling away into the busy afternoon traffic.

She was aware of the chatter that was filling the air around her; shoppers and tourists whispering in low tones about the arrest they had just witnessed. She heard the terms that were being used to describe her friend, and wanted to tell them all to shut up. They knew nothing about her, but they were all ready with their judgements, and she could feel that their eyes were beginning to settle on her. She had been standing with the criminal; was she to be treated with suspicion as well.

Forcing herself to shut out the increasing number of people who were now openly staring at her; Kelly pushed her way through the crowd and away down the sidewalk. There had been a look of fear on Bri's face as she caught sight of the officers. This was something that didn't sit quite right.


	20. Chapter 20

_**No, your eyes are not deceiving you... it's another chapter in less than a week.**_

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* * *

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Sabrina stared out of the window of the patrol car, and watched as buildings flashed past her eyes, and tried to suppress the feeling of panic that was starting to rise within her. She'd tried questioning the two officers who'd arrested her, but neither one of them appeared to be in the sharing mood. The officer in the passenger seat had smashed his nightstick against the metal grille that separated the back of the car from the front, and warned her in no uncertain terms of what would happen if she didn't shut up. She'd taken the hint and settled back in the seat, her cuffed wrists making it difficult to find a position that was comfortable. She'd come across the two officers before during her time in the city and she struggled to dredge up the names from her memory. They were both patrol officers from the 7th Precinct and she wondered just what they had been doing so far off their regular patch. Kelly's words rang in her ears, but she didn't want to believe that her friend had been responsible for setting her up.

She frowned as the car turned off Houston onto The Bowery. She tried to tell herself that the driver was just trying to avoid some known tailback in the area. When the car turned again; fear spiked in her chest.

"Boys?" She called out, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "You wanna tell me where we're going?"

There was no response from the two officers in the front seat.

Sabrina shifted forward. "Hey, come on. What's going on?"

The officer in the passenger seat turned sideways, enabling him to get a good look at his prisoner. "Just shut up," he snarled. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Hey, come on here," she pushed again for an answer. "What the hell's going on?"

The officer slammed his hand against the metal grille, making her jump. "You just sit there and shut up," he warned her. "We'll be there soon enough."

Sabrina sat back in her seat, a growing sense of unease beginning to build within her. The car was now heading away from Pitt Street. Wherever they were taking her... it wasn't the station house.

* * *

"Sabrina's been arrested," Kelly broke the news as she pushed her way into the hotel suite. She took in the reactions of her friends, but refused to answer the avalanche of questions that immediately came her way. She made her way directly to the phone and punched in a number as she raised the receiver to her ear.

"Charlie, we need your help," she skipped the pleasantries and went straight to business as soon as the phone was answered.

Kris exchanged a nervous look with Tiffany. Kelly seemed slightly rattled. She waited with a growing sense of impatience as Kelly completed the call.

Finally Kelly replaced the receiver and turned to face her friends.

"Charlie's given me the go ahead to get Bri out of the city. Tiff, do you think that you could look into flights details? When she's bailed, we're going to have to move quickly."

"Sure thing, but be careful at the station house. My contact there believes that Sergeant Thornford is on Rickard's payroll. He may not be keen to let her go." She glanced at her watch. "Although the timing of this may play in our favour. I'm guessing that Thornford's shift will be over soon. You may be able to get in and out before he realises that she's been arrested."

"At the moment I think we need a little bit of luck." Kelly turned her attention to Kris. "You find out anything about the man that Bri warned us about?"

Kris nodded. "Receptionist at the desk said that the same guy has been in a couple of times asking after us. Never leaves a name; never says why he wants to see us."

"I'm guessing he's the gorilla in a suit I saw at the launch party," Kelly theorised. "I wouldn't mind knowing a little more about him."

Tiffany nodded in agreement. "I can ask my contact at the station to look into it; see if he can't tell me a little more about him. Sergeant Thornford seems to be a man who keeps a tight hold over certain records. I wonder if there's a file on this man Lewis in there somewhere."

"You really think that you can get that information without attracting attention?"

"Thornford will be off the clock soon, and my contact tells me that the night shift sergeants don't use the office – they prefer to do their policing on the streets." She shrugged. "Most of the nightshift officers are aware of why I'm at the station house; I'm pretty certain I can get in and out of there without attracting attention."

Kelly frowned. "You need to be more than pretty certain Tiff. The last thing we need is someone else to worry about."

"Trust me," Tiffany replied firmly. "I'll play it cool. If I think that I'm going to have any trouble, then I'll get straight out of there."

Kelly nodded her agreement. "OK. I want to get down to the station right away; Charlie wants to sort out a lawyer for Bri. We need to let her know about it. If she refuses the help, then I'm worried that Rickard will step in and she'll be back in his hands before we can do anything."

"I'll drive," Tiffany offered. "I'll drop you guys a couple of blocks from Pitt Street just to make sure that no-one at the station connects us."

"Right," Kelly reached for her handbag. "Let's get Bri out of there now."

* * *

The car finally left the road and headed down an incline into an underground parking garage. Sabrina fought against the urge to try and force her way out of the car. The effort would be pointless. The rear doors were locked, and both officers were armed. There was also the small matter of the handcuffs that were still biting into her wrists. There was nothing she could do but wait for events to unfold.

The car splashed through the puddles that had formed in the earlier rainstorm and the driver of the car expertly threaded his way between the thick metal pillars that were spaced throughout the garage.

Finally the car came to a halt and the driver killed the engine. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. "We're a little early," he muttered to his colleague, turning up the collar of his jacket against the cold that was already beginning to encroach into the car.

The comment was met with a smile and the shorter man jerked a finger in the direction of the back seat. "I'm sure Thomas won't mind the wait."

The driver turned in his seat to look at her, casting his eyes over the bruising on her face. "You have a hell of a knack for pissing people off Thomas," he told her with a shake of his head.

"Who are you working for?" Sabrina tried to keep her voice even.

"Servants of the city," he told her tapping the badge on his jacket. "Duty bound to lift the crud off the streets." He paused, before adding sarcastically. "No offence."

Sabrina craned forward, finally able to make out the name beneath the badge. "So Officer Weston, you consider kidnapping as part of your civic duty?"

Weston ignored her, drawing a cigarette from the pack in his top pocket and placing it between his lips.

"You happy with the knowledge that whoever you hand me over to is likely to kill me?" Sabrina pushed again, knowing that her only chance was to try and unsettle the two officers.

Weston clicked on the lighter and took a deep breath as the end of the cigarette caught. He turned his head and blew the smoke directly in her face. "This city already thinks you're dead," he told her with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "You think you can name me one person who's going to grieve your passing?"

Sabrina held his gaze, trying to avoid coughing on the smoke that prickled the back of her throat. "You think that justifies handing me over to someone? What's it worth? Just how much is my life worth?"

Weston opened his mouth to answer, but his colleague caught his arm.

"Just shut up Thomas, unless you want one of us to take a nightstick to your kneecaps. There was nothing in the agreement about the state you had to be in."

Sabrina fell silent, meeting the shorter officer's gaze and holding it.

"It's time," Weston announced, climbing from the car and slamming the door shut. The sound echoed round the otherwise abandoned garage. He opened the rear door of the car and gestured to Sabrina to get out. She shifted awkwardly as she tried to manoeuvre herself towards the door. Weston soon lost patience with her and reached in, clamping a hand around her arm and yanking her out.

She stumbled, and struggled to maintain her balance as Weston immediately set off across the uneven surface.

"Hey, what's the rush," she spat as she tried to dig her heels in and slow him down.

Weston's response was simply to swear at her and wait for his partner to grab her other arm.

Sabrina tripped and scuffed her way across the uneven floor, the pace of the two men making it difficult for her to maintain her footing.

Her footsteps seemed amplified in the cold dank garage, and she hoped that someone would hear them and come to investigate. She knew that the likelihood was faint though. People in the neighbourhood had learnt that it was safer to ignore anything they heard or saw.

She shivered in the freezing air and watched her breath as it formed around her.

"Don't do this," she tried to plead with them; twisting her body as she spoke, trying to slow down their rapid pace as they neared the heavy wooden door at the far side of the floor. "Whatever you may think, I can make a difference here."

Weston halted abruptly and pulled her away from his partner's grip. He met her hopeful gaze for a second before slamming her against the wall and placing his hand between her shoulder blades

Sabrina struggled against the weight, as Weston held her effortlessly in place. He leaned in, placing all of his weight against her back and pushing his head close to her ear. "You ever see anyone die of an overdose Thomas? You ever see that expression on their face?" He wound his free hand in her hair and pulled her head back. "You deliver death to people's doors Thomas. Don't ask me to feel sorry for you. Don't you dare ask me to feel anything for you."

Without saying anything further Weston hauled her away from the wall and pushed her through the door that his colleague had opened.

Sabrina blinked as her world was suddenly flooded with light. She closed her eyes and tried to turn away from the harsh strip lighting, but Weston behind her just shoved her forward.

She kept her mouth closed as she was pushed down the hallway. There was nothing she could say to change Weston's opinion of her. She knew that she'd lost her last chance of getting out of her current situation.

The passageway was short and dog-legged at the far end. It was obviously a utility tunnel of some sort; pipes snaked their way along the walls and criss-crossed above their heads.

Sabrina's hope dropped to the pit of her stomach as she was shoved around the bend in the passageway and came face to face with Lewis. He winked knowingly at her before leaning back against the wall and folding his arms.

She turned resignedly away from him, and waited for Weston to remove the cuffs.

Weston pushed her against the wall and fished the keys from his pocket. Sabrina absently rubbed at her sore wrists as soon as he released her.

"You really do have friends in low places," Weston told Lewis in a sneering tone as he placed a hand in the small of Sabrina's back and shoved her towards him.

Lewis ignored Weston and focused his attention on Sabrina. "Miss me?" he enquired with a growl, as he grabbed hold of her arm in a vice like grip.

She tried to shake herself loose, but Lewis was ready for the move, and simply tightened his grip on her arm. "There's someone who's very keen to see you," he hissed in her ear. "And I'm here to make sure that you get there."

He switched his attention to Weston. "My boss is very pleased with your work," he told the uniformed officer. "He only wishes that everyone worked as hard to keep the streets clear of trash like this." He pushed his free hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a buff envelope, throwing it towards Weston. "Split it with your colleague," he advised him. "And I know that I don't need to tell you to keep your mouth shut about all this." He clamped his other hand down on Sabrina's shoulder and shook her. "I don't think you need to worry about Thomas here. She's got a lesson to learn, and it's going to be one she won't forget."

Weston nodded in acknowledgement and turned on his heel, disappearing back around the bend in the corridor.

Sabrina shivered as she felt Lewis' breath on the back of her neck. "You've been a major disappointment Mary," he whispered into her ear. "And you know how Mr Rickard hates it when people disappoint him."

* * *

The desk sergeant raised his head slowly from the newspaper in front of him. For the past five minutes he'd been struggling with the intricacies of seven across, and really didn't have the patience to deal with the riff raff who usually dragged themselves through the door at this hour of the day. Completing the crossword was certainly higher on his list of priorities this evening, then attending to yet another complaint about domestic violence.

The expression on his face changed immediately, as he caught sight of the two young women who were just walking in. He straightened up, and plastered a smile on his face; all thoughts of the crossword forgotten.

"Can I help you ladies?"

Kelly smiled at the officer and wished that she'd rehearsed some sort of story with Kris.

"We're here to see Mary Thomas." She decided that it was best to just stick to the facts.

She saw the way that the smile on the desk sergeant's face immediately faltered, and pushed on.

"I received a phone call telling me that she was here. A friend of hers from out of state asked me to come down here and make sure that she was okay."

Kelly watched as the desk sergeant sat back in his seat and folded his arms.

"You're too late," he told her flatly.

Kelly felt Kris's hand grip her arm. "Where is she?" She tried to keep the panic out of her voice. If she wasn't in the station, Kelly really didn't want to think about where she might be.

She noted with distain the way that the desk sergeant's attention was already drifting back towards the newspaper that sat on the table in front of him. She was half-inclined to snatch it out from under his nose, and force him to pay attention to them, but she managed to maintain her composure.

"She was fished out of the East River first thing this morning," the officer told her in a bored tone, picking up his pencil and tapping the tip of it on the newspaper.

"That wasn't Mary Thomas," Kris butted into the conversation.

"I saw her being arrested not more than two hours ago," Kelly affirmed. "If she's not been brought here, could you find out where she is?"

The officer sighed heavily; his patience already beginning to be tested.

"What's all the interest in street trash like Mary Thomas all of a sudden!" he muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry!" Kelly questioned pointedly.

"Please," Kris tried to head off the argument she could sense building. "We'd really appreciate it if you could tell us."

"Don't tell me," the officer grumbled as he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. "Mary's out of state friend really needs to know."

Kelly held her tongue and waited for the sergeant to pull a heavy ledger down from the shelf behind him and place it on the desk. He made a point of taking an age to find the right page.

"There's no record of Mary Thomas being brought into the station." He tapped the page. "Anyone who comes in or out of here has their name entered in the book."

Kelly rested her hands on the edge of the desk. "Look, I need to find Mary. It's important. Can you at least check and see if she's been taken to another station?"

The sergeant raised his head to meet her gaze. "Lady, Mary Thomas is lying out on a slab at Hunters Point."

Kelly's fingers curled around the edge of the desk. "I saw her being arrested at South Ferry terminal," she told him through clenched teeth. "The car she was bundled into had 7th Precinct markings on the side. If she wasn't brought here, I want to know where she went."

The desk sergeant looked at her patiently. "I can assure you that no patrol would have been sent to South Ferry. That's the 1st precinct's jurisdiction Ma'am. I suggest that it was one of their units you saw."

Kelly shook her head. "I know what I saw. What I don't understand is why you're not willing to believe me."

Kelly opened her mouth to add something further, but she felt Kris' restraining hand on her arm.

"Thanks for your help sergeant," Kris told him sweetly. "It's people like you who make this city what it is."

Without waiting for a response from him, Kelly turned and stalked from the building, Kris hot on her heels.

The desk sergeant waited until the door had swung shut before reaching for the phone that sat on the end of the table. He lifted the receiver from its cradle and selected an outside line. When he finally heard the dial tone, he tapped in a number.

"You wanted to know if anyone came in here asking after Mary Thomas," he spoke quietly into the handset, checking to make sure that he couldn't be overheard. "Well I just had a visit from two women, wanting to see Mary, and then getting over-excited when I told them that she wasn't here...Sure, I'll do that. You just had to say the word."

* * *

Tiffany walked as confidently as she could across the squad room. Experience had taught her that looking as though you knew where you were going in a busy office was often enough to stop people from questioning your presence. She hoped that the theory held true for busy squad rooms.

Luck it appeared was on her side and she made her way to the other side of the room and Thornford's office without being challenged.

She'd stood across the street from the station house; warming her hands around a cup of very bitter coffee for a few minutes, waiting for Thornford to leave. She'd had a hunch that the man was not one to work past his scheduled hours, and had allowed herself a small smile of victory as she watched him huff and puff his way down the steps, before heading off in the direction of a bar on the next block.

Now, having managed to access his office, she wanted to get what she'd come for, and get out again before anyone registered she was there. She moved quickly to the file cabinet at the back of the office; pulling open the top drawer and wincing as it screeched loudly on badly oiled metal runners.

Thumbing through the files, she quickly found the ones that she wanted and lifted them free. There wasn't the time to take photographs; she just had to take the whole thing, and hope that she'd get the opportunity to replace them before they were missed. Pushing the files into her bag, she carefully closed the drawer and turned to leave.

As she reached the door, she was stuck by a sudden thought, and turned back to face Thornford's desk. Acting on impulse she scurried back behind his desk and pulled open the desk drawers; hunting through them for anything else that might be of use. Aside from various items of stationary and requisition forms, the top drawer offered little of interest. She pushed it shut and pulled open the drawer below it. An almost over-powering stench of stale sweat hit her nostrils from the creased up shirt and shorts that were crumpled inside, and she quickly slammed the drawer shut again. Scooting over to the left-hand side of the desk, she tried again. The bottom drawer refused to budge. Tiffany placed both hands on the wooden handle and tugged at it.

The drawer finally came loose and Tiffany realised why it had been so hard to open. The drawer was stuffed full of files; all of them wedged one on top of the other until there was no space remaining. She carefully lifted out the first few and took a look at the details on the front sheets. Nothing instantly linked the files together in her mind. There was a robbery, a carjacking, two burglaries. She placed the files on the floor and lifted out the next five. The pattern was the same.

She froze at the sound of laughter on the other side of the door. If someone was to enter the room now, there was no way that she'd be able to adequately explain her presence. She lifted the files that were on the floor next to her, intending to push them back in the drawer, but her eyes caught the photograph on the file that was now on the top of the pile still in the drawer. There was something about the photograph that attracted her attention, and after a moment or two the realisation struck her. It was possible that she was looking at the picture of the woman she had seen that morning in the morgue. Placing the files she was holding on the floor, Tiffany reached into the drawer and pulled out the remaining half dozen files, she pushed them into her bag, before hastily replacing the ones that were still spread out on the floor.

Her eyes kept flicking towards the frosted glass door, paranoid that someone was about to enter the room and catch her. Again, there were the sounds of people on the other side. She willed them to walk on past. She watched with growing fear as the distorted shadows showed no sign of moving on.

"Come on Weston," the voice on the other side of the door encouraged. "We'll just leave him his share here. I'm not going back into that dive bar he seems to love so much."

Tiffany froze; mentally kicking herself for spending so much time in the office. She needed to come up with an excuse for why she was there, but nothing immediately sprang to mind. She glanced frantically around at the furnishings in the room, wondering if there was a chance of finding a hiding place behind the desk. It wasn't much, but it looked as though it was her only hope. Silently she edged towards it, keeping her eyes fixed on the door handle, praying that it wasn't going to move.

She had barely ducked down behind the desk when she heard the sound of the door being opened.

"We took the money; we did what we were told," the voice floated across the room towards her. "I don't have a problem with that. Don't start telling me that you're getting a conscience?"

"It's not that," a second voice protested. "I just don't see why Thornford should get a slice of the money. Remind me again, exactly what does he do other than take money from us?"

"I'm not getting into that now."

"Weston, Gallagher. Just the two gentlemen I needed to see," a third voice entered into the conversation. Tiffany recognised it as belonging to the gruff sergeant who usually worked at the front desk.

"I've got another little job for you," the sergeant's voice continued. "I know you're off the clock, but this is one that will pay. Two women were just in here asking after Mary Thomas; it seems that you drew a little unwanted attention to yourselves earlier. That little indiscretion needs tidying up."

Tiffany's mouth dropped open as she listened to the conversation that was taking place. She shrank down lower behind the table and hoped that the men would continue their conversation where they were. She knew that she'd have a hard time explaining what she was doing there if they were to walk in and find her.

"Where are they?" she heard the first officer ask.

"Last seen heading towards Broome Street," the sergeant provided the detail. "They were only out of here a matter of minutes ago. If you're quick, you might just catch up to them."

"This neighbourhood's not the place for the unwary," the first officer announced, slapping his colleague on the arm. "What say, we go and rescue the ladies?"

Tiffany heard the second officer laugh "I hope the man appreciates the service that we're doing him," he commented.

"Rest assured that you'll be well compensated for your efforts," the sergeant told them warmly. "From the tone of the voice on the phone, I'd say that these two women have been almost as much of a nuisance as Mary Thomas. Come on, I'll tell you more about them on the way to the car."

There was a pause and then Tiffany heard the sound of the door being closed, and of footsteps retreating. When she was certain that the officers had gone, she let out a long breath. Things went deeper than they'd first feared. She rose to her feet and moved quickly across the room, heading for the exit. The two officers had a head start on her, but she had to try her best to get to Kelly and Kris first. If she didn't, she wasn't sure what would happen to them.


	21. Chapter 21

_**It's all kicking off!**_

_**

* * *

**_

Sabrina was glad when they finally arrived at their destination. It wasn't a building she recognised as they approached, but then she knew that Rickard owned property all across the Lower East Side. She had been expecting Lewis to be driving, and had felt her heart sink as he pulled her out of the garage and onto the pavement to reveal Grainger leant up against the side of a battered blue Sedan. There had been a silent exchange of glances and then Lewis has forced her into the car.

The resulting journey had seen Lewis wrap one arm around her shoulder, pinning her right arm to her side, and clamping her left wrist tightly within his other hand. As she'd attempted to shake him off, he'd only increased his grip and told her firmly that Rickard had been very clear that she shouldn't be presented with any chance to give him the slip. He had maintained his hold on her for the entire journey, not allowing her to move an inch. She had glanced up at the rear view mirror and seen the expression of amusement on Grainger's face. She had glared at him to little effect, and resigned herself to the small consolation that at least Rickard wanted to see her. If he was looking to have her killed then she knew that Lewis wouldn't be treating her with so much care.

Gravel sprayed up from the wheels as Grainger guided the car around the pot-holes that pitted the driveway. The building looked as though it had served time as a factory of some sort. In the gloom of the early evening it was hard to make out many details, but from what she could see, it looked as though the place had seen better days.

The car shuddered to a halt and Grainger was swiftly out of the vehicle.

Sabrina expected Lewis to move, but he waited for Grainger to come round and open the door on her side of the car before he relaxed his hold on her – transferring responsibility to the weasel of a man whilst he clambered out of the car.

Once out, he grabbed hold of her arm again and propelled her into the building via a small side entrance and into a small service elevator. His bulk blocked her view of the floor that he selected but, after only a short ride, he pulled the metal gate back and bustled her down the corridor towards a small sparsely furnished office.

She tried to engage him in conversation, but Lewis wasn't having any of it. Each question was met with another tug on her arm, and she finally admitted defeat and lapsed into silence.

She was unceremoniously pushed into a small side office, and as she regained her balance heard the sound of the door being slammed and then locked. A quick examination of the office revealed nothing but the fact that the door was heavy and the lock unpick-able without a proper set of lock picks. She dropped down onto the solitary metal chair and tried not to let her imagination run away with her. There was nothing to say that Rickard had discovered something about Kris or Kelly; he was more than likely just pissed because she had been out of contact with him for so long.

The longer she sat in the freezing emptiness of the small office, the harder it was to cling onto the latter idea.

* * *

"Where now?" Kris asked as the freezing wind lashed against her face. She'd followed Kelly for the last two blocks; not saying anything but waiting for her friend to break the silence. When it became apparent that that wasn't going to happen, she felt as though she had to try and get through to her before they ended up walking to South Ferry.

Kelly acted as though she hadn't heard her friend and concentrated on pulling her heavy coat tightly around her shoulders.

"Kel?" Kris prompted; frustrated at the way that Kelly was shutting her out.

Finally, Kelly stopped and turned to face Kris, spreading her arms wide. "What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you that we stand even a remote chance of finding Bri if Rickard's got to her already? Want me to tell you that everything's going to turn out fine? Well I'm sorry. I just can't do that."

Kris held up her hands, shocked by her friend's outburst. "Hey, hey," she spoke as calmly as she could. "I didn't mean..."

Kelly waved for her to be silent. "I'm sorry," she apologised, stepping forward and taking both of Kris' hands within her own. "It's just..."

"I know," Kris reassured her. "I know."

"Ladies!"

Kris turned her head as she heard the call. She was more than a little surprised to see a police patrol car slowing to crawling pace alongside them. The window had been wound down, and the officer in the passenger seat was leaning out and beckoning them over.

Exchanging a glance, the two women made their way over to the edge of the sidewalk.

"Something we can help you with officer?" Kris enquired.

"Just want to make sure that you ladies are ok," the man told them with a broad smile. "This isn't a neighbourhood that you want to go wandering around in."

"We're fine, thank you," Kelly told him smartly, subtly pulling on the back of Kris' coat as she took in the precinct number on the side of the patrol car.

The officer shook his head. "Don't seem right somehow, to just leave you here without some form of protection."

The smile dropped from Kelly's face. "We don't need any protection... Officer Gallagher," she told the man shortly, leaning forward and taking in the small printed name badge. "We're fine."

"I think it's best if you get in the car and let us get you out of this neighbourhood," the man's voice took on a harder edge, and Kelly exchanged a concerned glance with Kris.

Kelly held up a hand, and took a pace back from the car. "I don't think so."

"Get in the car," Gallagher told the pair of them firmly, pulling his service revolver from its holster and levelling it out of the open window.

He saw the look that passed between the two women and smiled ruefully. "You really think that you can outrun a bullet from this gun? One of you may make it to the corner of the next block, but the other..." he let the sentence tail off as he slowly opened the car door and climbed out. "I took a refresher course on the shooting range only last week," he told them conversationally. "I could drop either one of you at fifty feet."

Still keeping his attention fully fixed on them, he reached across to open the rear door of the patrol car. "Let's keep this civilised," he advised. "Drop your purses, get in and don't make a scene. If you seriously think that anyone around here is going to pay any attention to what's going on, then you've seriously misunderstood the neighbourhood."

Kelly exchanged a look with Kris; seeing her own expression of resignation, mirrored on her friend's face. There really was no other option but to go along with the officer. Getting herself or Kris shot was not going to help either them or Bri. Going along with the officers however gave them more time to find a way out of the situation.

She slipped her bag from her shoulder and raised her hands slightly, to show Gallagher that she wasn't going to do anything stupid and was relieved when Kris followed her lead.

Gallagher gestured towards the back of the car with his gun. "Get in ladies," he instructed them, allowing a smug expression to spread across his features.

Kelly climbed reluctantly into the back of the patrol car. It had obviously been months since the car had been cleaned, and the smell emanating from the back seat nearly caused her to gag. She didn't want to think about how many people had been sitting there before her. She closed her eyes and settled herself into place.

She waited for Kris to get in beside her. "Play it safe and slow?" she whispered, making sure that she was working to the same plan.

Kris gave a barely perceptible nod of her head as Gallagher leaned into the car.

"I don't want to hear a word out of either of you, unless it's in response to me asking a question," he told them firmly. "Are we clear on that?"

"Sure," Kelly told him tersely, as the door was slammed shut.

The driver turned to face them for the first time as his partner climbed into the front of the car. He grinned at the two girls before smacking his hand against the heavy metal grille that separated them from the front of the car. "Enjoy the ride ladies," he told them, before turning his attention back to the road ahead. Slipping the car into gear, he pulled away from the kerb and back into traffic.

* * *

Sabrina paced the room again, blowing on her freezing fingers and trying to quell a growing sense of unease. Rickard knew something; he had to. There was no other reason she could fathom for the way that he was making her wait. Rickard wasn't by nature a patient man. She pulled the bare metal chair away from the table and sat down on it. If Rickard came to her with questions, then she had to try and make sure that she could come up with something to tell him. It wouldn't be the truth, but it would have to be convincing enough to make him decide to keep her alive.

She flinched as she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock. She took a deep breath and tried to plaster a suitably contrite expression on her face.

Lewis appeared in the doorway before stepping back to let Rickard make his entrance. He was as impeccably dressed as ever, seemingly not feeling the cold that was causing her breath to appear as little white puffs every time that she breathed. He ignored her greeting, but clicked his fingers at Lewis who wordlessly closed the door of the office before making his way to her side.

Too late she realised that she was still sitting on the only chair in the room. Lewis roughly yanked her to her feet and hauled her away from the chair, dragging her around to the other side of the plain wooden table.

Rickard brushed at the surface of the vacated seat before taking his place and silently regarding her.

He looked down at his perfectly manicured nails, before finally breaking the silence. "Seems as though the rumours of your death were greatly exaggerated," he remarked pointedly.

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear calm. "It's not my fault the cops made a mistake in identifying a corpse."

Rickard kept his attention focussed on his fingernails. "Interesting though, don't you think, that the anonymous caller to the police mentioned you by name." He finally looked up and locked eyes with her. "Perhaps they were psychic."

Sabrina refused to respond to the threat, and kept her expression as neutral as possible.

"Imagine my surprise when I receive a call telling me that Mary Thomas has been seen on the street. I get to wondering why she hasn't made the effort to let me know where she was. I get to wondering what she might have to hide from me..." he tailed off, waiting to see if she would try and fill the silence with detail. He was frustrated when she remained obstinately silent.

Without warning, he slammed his hand down flat on the table, masking a smile of satisfaction as Sabrina jumped at the sudden sound. "There are two ways we can play this. Either you can start trying to explain your actions or I can return you to the open arms of the local station and see you put away for the murder of poor Murray Buchanan."

"I wasn't even in town when Murray was killed," Sabrina protested.

"You have witnesses that can vouch for that?" Rickard queried; his tone light.

Sabrina felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She barely heard the next words that Rickard spoke.

"The way it plays out is this; you do as you're told and Lewis here goes to the station and tells New York's finest that you were with him on the night in question. You let me down and that whole alibi just disappears into the night. Understand this Miss Thomas; I own you. You step out of line one more time, and I'll see to it that you are sent to prison for the murder of Murray Buchanan. I can't imagine that any jury in the country would have a problem convicting you on the evidence that I can produce."

He took in the look of confusion on Sabrina's face.

"Oh yes, it might be easier to let Lewis here have a little fun, a little diversion; but I think it's much more rewarding to think of the years of misery you could have stretching out in front of you, with no hope of release. You disappoint me, and I see it only fitting that you be punished to the full extent of the law."

Sabrina clenched her jaw, refusing to give Rickard the satisfaction of seeing that his words were having the desired effect. She had no doubt that he could follow through on the threats that he was making. If the police had their evidence, then there would be nothing anyone could do to get her off of the charge. She doubted that even Charlie's influence stretched as far as a Grand Jury.

"No words Miss Thomas; no pleas for mercy?" Rickard chided, noticing her silence before turning his attention to Lewis. "I believe you once considered a career as a correctional officer," he noted conversationally. "If Miss Thomas here is unlucky enough to land herself behind bars on a permanent basis; perhaps I could arrange for you to become her personal jailer. Military background like yours, you're bound to be just the sort of person they're looking for to keep disobedient young women in line." He watched as Lewis' lips curled into a smile. "Yes; I thought you'd like that idea." He turned back and fixed his gaze on Sabrina. "I could make your life right now seem like a picnic," he warned in a low tone. "You have one last chance to prove that you are loyal to me, or so help me I will make your life a real living hell." He paused, and pulled on the cuffs of his jacket. "I trust that I am making myself clear!"

Sabrina nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Rickard smiled, as he saw the way that she struggled to maintain her composure. He knew that his words had hit her, and hit her hard.

"There is something that I need you to do," he told her, reaching into his inside pocket for a small pile of photographs. He nodded in Lewis' direction, and the tall man pushed Sabrina forward until she stumbled painfully into the edge of the desk.

His eyes fixed on her face, Rickard laid out each photograph in turn, watching for a reaction. "I had someone keeping an eye on you after your little trip to Pittsburgh Miss Thomas; I had this feeling; this nagging feeling that you were still keeping something from me..."

Rickard's words became nothing but a wall of roaring sound as Sabrina took in the softly focussed pictures that showed her at Coney Island in conversation with Kelly.

"I want to know who she is Mary."

It seemed to Sabrina as though time had been standing still for hours, but Rickard's persistent tone, and a rough shake of the shoulders from Lewis snapped her back to reality, and she realised with a sinking heart that nothing had changed. Rickard continued to speak, but it took her a while to work out what it was he was saying. Her mind was trying to tell her that it couldn't be happening, but she knew that she'd have to let go of that frail belief within seconds and face reality.

"Who is she? How do you know her?" Rickard's words drilled their way into Sabrina's head. Her mouth was dry, and she found it hard to form a sentence. There was precious little chance that she'd be able to bluff her way out of the situation.

She gasped as Lewis' fist slammed into the small of her back. Her knees buckled, but Lewis grabbed at her shoulders, pulling her back upright; his hands clenched tightly around the material of her jacket and sweater.

"I want answers from you Mary, and I want you to think long and hard before you answer them," Rickard told her coldly. "Who is she?"

Sabrina shook her head, and opened her mouth to say that she didn't know. She spotted the almost imperceptible nod of the head from Rickard, and braced herself for what would follow.

* * *

The car finally came to a halt and Kelly exchanged a nervous look with Kris. Both had taken it in turn to try and get answers out of the two officers, but their questions had been met with nothing but stony silence. Kelly was more worried than she cared to admit. Nothing had been done to prevent them from seeing where they were going. Either that meant that the person they were being taken to see was confident that he could persuade them to be quiet, or ... well, she wasn't sure that she wanted to dwell on the other possibility.

Gallagher climbed from the car and stood away from the vehicle, his service revolver clasped in both hands, ready to react if they were to try anything foolish.

"C'mon ladies," the other officer instructed them, as he pushed himself out of the vehicle and reached round for the rear driver's door. "Out you come and no messing."

Reluctantly, Kelly clambered from the car, turning and reaching back for her friend.

"You can leave your girlfriend," Gallagher told her brusquely. "Hands on the roof of the car."

Kelly turned to glare at the man. "You this jumpy with everyone you snatch off the streets?" she asked him icily.

"Just do as you're told, and you might live to see the end of the day," he spat back at her, gesturing towards the car with the barrel of his revolver.

Shaking her head in disgust, Kelly followed his instructions and waited for Kris to join her.

Kris moved too slowly for the liking of the second officer and he pushed her roughly towards the side of the car.

"Hey," Kris protested, ready to push away and confront the man.

"Take it easy with these guys," Kelly hissed under her breath at her friend. "I get the feeling that they're getting a little jumpy."

"Can it," he warned her as he stepped in and carried out a cursory weapons check.

"Don't you think it's a little late to be thorough?" Kris' voice was laced with sarcasm. "If we were armed, you wouldn't be standing here now."

Kelly whispered a warning under her breath to her friend again. She had a feeling that Kris' words were mostly generated through fear, but she didn't want to antagonise the armed officers any more than they needed to.

"Just shut up and do what you're told," Gallagher barked at them both. "Hands on the roof of the car and shut up."

* * *

"I thought you were smarter than this," Rickard told Sabrina dispassionately as Lewis landed another blow. "You've been seen in conversation with her before. She's one of the women who came to your old apartment, isn't she?"

Rickard sighed, as Sabrina once again failed to reply. He waved a hand in Lewis' direction, indicating that the man should continue.

"Miss Thomas," Rickard continued in the same calm tone. "I doubt the police care what state I return you to them in." He sat back in the chair. "It may interest you to know that I received a very interesting phone call a little earlier. Seems that this woman – whom you claim not to know – cares what happens to you. She and a little friend have just been to the station house looking for you. You want to change your mind about knowing her?"

Sabrina's silence began to frustrate Rickard. "Being silent won't help you Mary," he warned her. "And it certainly won't help your friend."

He clicked his tongue impatiently against his teeth. There was precious little to be gained from beating Mary Thomas to a bloody pulp. Her silence was frustrating but, as always, there was more than one way to get to the truth.

"It may interest you to know that she is a problem that can be easily taken care of." Rickard nodded to Lewis and the man released his grip on Sabrina. She gripped the edge of the desk, needing it to keep her on her feet.

Lewis reached into his jacket pocket and lifted out a slender two way radio, handing it wordlessly over to Rickard.

Rickard watched with interest the way that the woman in front of him was seemingly mesmerised by the small device. He continued to monitor her reactions carefully as he selected the correct frequency and held down the transmit button. "The small matter we discussed earlier. I want it taken care of," he told the voice on the other end of the line. Pausing, he lowered the receiver and leant in towards Sabrina, who was once again being held upright by Lewis. "Tell me who she is, or I'll have her killed."

Sabrina struggled to order her thoughts. There was always a chance that Rickard was bluffing; that he didn't have any idea where Kelly was. But there was equally a chance that he had someone watching her, and by not saying anything, she was going to be responsible for the death of her friend.

She had to believe that Kelly would be able to outwit whoever Rickard might send after her; if she gave away any detail about her, she might as well be pulling the trigger herself.

"Alright," she whispered painfully. "I'll tell you."

Rickard raised the transceiver again. "One moment," he told the man on the other end, before looking at her expectantly.

"Her name's Lucy Martin," Sabrina's memory dredged up the name of an old school friend she'd not seen in years. The expression that flashed across Rickard's face told her that she'd made a mistake. She felt her heart-rate quicken in fear.

"Wrong answer," he told her with a snarl. "My sources have given me a little more than just a few blurry pictures."

He nodded at Lewis, and moments later Sabrina struggled to maintain her footing as Lewis dragged her bodily over to the window. She felt his hand tightly grip her chin and force her to look out of the grime-covered window onto the small courtyard she'd seen earlier. Her heart leapt with fear as she immediately recognised the two figures who were being held at gunpoint.

"I warned you that there were no more second chances," Rickard's voice drilled its way into her head.

Sabrina reluctantly tore her eyes away from the sight below as Lewis dragged her back round to face Rickard.

"Wait," Sabrina called out desperately, hoping that she'd be able to persuade Rickard to give her another chance.

He shook his head slowly. "I want the problem dealt with," he spoke calmly into the two-way. "Take out her little friend as well. I don't want any loose ends."

"No!" Sabrina struggled against the tight grip that Lewis had on her, her own pain forgotten, but it was a hopeless gesture.

Rickard calmly switched off the device and placed it down on the table before looking with amusement at the struggling figure in front of him.

"I thought you said that she was nothing more than a pushy do-gooder," Rickard reminded her, recalling their conversation of a few days ago. "Lewis here went back to your old apartment, and between sobs and wailing, Buchanan's widow confirmed that the woman in these photographs was the same woman that had come poking around, looking for you." He reached out and grabbed hold of her chin, raising her head to meet his. "I warned you that I wouldn't tolerate liars on my payroll. Did you really doubt me? Did you really doubt that I meant what I said?"

The dark eyes that stared back at him were full of hate.

"Take her downstairs," he told Lewis abruptly. "I think Miss Thomas has a few things to think about whilst we take care of her two friends."

Rickard stood back and watched impassively as Lewis dragged her from the room. She yelled and swore, and promised to get even with him as Lewis manhandled her out of sight. He could hear the raw anguish in her voice, and that intrigued him immensely. There was definitely more than a simple working relationship here. He retook his seat and picked through the photographs again; there was a connection between the two women that he had yet to completely map out. Thomas could wait, he decided. There was more to come from her, but it wouldn't do her any harm to stew in her own juices for a little while. He tapped one of the photographs on the edge of the table. There was information to be gained from Miss Kelly Garrett. He reached forward and picked up the radio again.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Sorry that this part is a little shorter than usual. Normal service will be resumed next time.**_

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* * *

**_Tiffany leant on the car horn again as the traffic in front of her refused to move. She punched at the centre of the steering wheel again and again, as if in some way it would help to make the cars move. "Come on," she yelled impatiently. "Get out of the way."

The drivers around her were all safely ensconced in their vehicles, windows wound up against the bitter weather outside. Angry, impatient drivers were nothing new; they tuned out the sound of the blaring car horn, the same way that they did every day.

Tiffany threw herself back in her seat and let out an exclamation borne of pure frustration. She pushed her fingers through her hair and attempted to calm down. She had to get out of the traffic and back on the trail of her friends as soon as possible.

Ahead, she could see nothing but a steady line of slow-moving vehicles. The rear view mirror revealed a similar long line of cars snaking out behind her. It was obvious that nothing was going anywhere soon.

She rubbed at her eyes. She couldn't just sit and wait for things to clear. On impulse she killed the engine and pushed open the driver's door. The quickest course of action was to move on foot.

Ignoring the shouts from the drivers behind, Tiffany abandoned the car, and set off down one of the side streets. She had to find Kris and Kelly, and she prayed that she could find them before Rickard's tame cops did.

* * *

Kelly and Kris exchanged a glance as Gallagher retracted the aerial of the small radio he'd been using and slid the device back into his jacket pocket. They'd only heard snippets of the conversation he was having, and none of it had given them any real clue as to what was going on. They could do nothing but wait for Gallagher to tell them what was going to happen next.

Kelly regarded the other officer who had his service revolver trained on them. His name badge identified him as Weston, and he was beginning to look decidedly uncertain about the whole situation. He caught her staring and pursed his lips angrily. Kelly dutifully shifted her attention back to the roof of the car. She had been standing with her hands on the roof for the past ten minutes and was beginning to lose all feeling in her fingers in the freezing air.

"Right," Gallagher's voice broke the silence. "Time's up ladies."

Kelly turned her head and saw him draw his service revolver from its holster. She felt her blood run cold. The man's intentions were clear. He gestured towards the single storey building in front of them. "Move."

Wordlessly Kelly straightened up and moved to the front of the car. "What's going on?" She tried to keep the fear out of her voice, but wasn't entirely certain that she succeeded.

Gallagher gestured again with his gun. "Just do as you're told," he barked.

Reluctantly Kelly made her way towards the door that led into the building. It had once been painted a dull green colour, but years of abandonment and seasons of unforgiving weather had seen the paint flake away, revealing the slowly rusting metal beneath.

She stopped short as she reached it. "You sure you want to go in here?"

"Just open it," Gallagher instructed her tersely.

Placing both hands on the handle, Kelly pulled hard and the door swung silently open, revealing nothing but a cavernous darkness within.

Kelly turned back to face Gallagher. "You are kidding me?"

Gallagher didn't bother replying. He simply moved closer keeping his revolver levelled at Kelly. She realised that he wasn't in the mood for a debate on the issue and so she raised her hands in submission and entered into the dark cavernous space.

She stumbled as she struggled to find her way across the uneven ground. She felt Kris at her side immediately, and took comfort in the fact that her friend was with her.

"Keep it moving," Gallagher warned. "I had orders to deliver you here, but there was nothing about the both of you having to be breathing."

"You're a disgrace to the badge," Kris called back bluntly; ignoring the gentle pressure Kelly placed on her arm.

"Easy," Kelly hissed under her breath. Antagonising the two officers was not the best way to go about things.

"That's far enough," Weston finally called out, and Kelly slowed to a halt. She turned to face the two men and took in the slight nervousness in Weston's stance. Now that things were coming to a head, the bravado he'd started out with was beginning to fade.

"How much are you being paid for this?" she asked calmly, trying to make eye contact with him.

"What does it matter?" Gallagher growled. "Or are you just wanting to know how much your life is worth?"

"I'm wanting to know what makes two men - who took a pledge to serve and protect the citizens of this city – prepared to take the lives of two innocent civilians?"

Weston let out a loud bark of a laugh. "Innocent. Lady this city is full of innocent people; my heart bleeds for the innocent civilians of this city. There are the innocent people that we arrest on a Friday night, trying to sell badly cut dope to other innocent people who are so desperate for a fix that they'll take the crap that's being sold because it's better than going without. There are the innocent people who attack the elderly because they see them as an easy target. There are the innocents who pull a gun on the driver of a bus because they can't make change. Lady, this city is so full of innocent people; I hardly know where to start!"

Kelly bit her lip. The nervousness of the officer was making him edgy; there was no telling which way he was going to go.

"Killing us isn't going to make the city a safer place," she told him. "It's just going to bring you down further into the mire." She shrugged her shoulders. "Whoever's paying you for this. You really think that this is going to be the last thing that they ask you to do? You know as well as I do that a few weeks, a few months down the line there will be something else, and then something else. You're going to end up no different from those 'Innocent' people that you seem to detest so much."

"What, and you're here to save my soul?" There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice, but Kelly was determined not to let the matter go.

"No. I'm here to tell you that there are always choices. You have your own mind. Killing us will not make you the better person."

"Maybe you want to think about who it is who's told you that we need to be silenced," Kris eased her way into the conversation. "If we're thought of as a threat, then maybe we do have the ability to make a difference."

"You make trouble in a city this size and you just disappear. You could call out the National Guard and it wouldn't make a difference. One way or another they'd all just disappear into the cracks in the sidewalk; swallowed up the way that this city swallows up anyone who's not bright enough or fast enough to keep their head above water."

"Turn and face the wall," Gallagher barked, breaking into the silence that had suddenly filled the air.

"This doesn't have to be this way," Kris attempted to argue, but the man simply cocked his service revolver.

"You don't turn and face the wall and I simply drop you where you stand."

Realising that there was nothing else they could do, Kelly did as she was told, reaching out for Kris' hand as her friend followed suit.

* * *

Lewis pushed Sabrina against the damp wall of the corridor and struggled to hold her in place as he attempted to open the door to the storeroom where Rickard had instructed she be held. She had bucked and fought against him ever since leaving the meeting with Rickard, and he was beginning to tire of her. Leaving the door for a moment he shifted his grip to her shoulders and pulled her away from the wall before slamming her hard against it, and leaning in with the full weight of his body. He felt her body sag immediately and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling her head back so that he could whisper into her ear.

"Whatever the temptation while you're cooling your heels in here, I'd be bitterly disappointed if you tried to top yourself. I'm looking forward to dealing with you personally. Perhaps I'll tell you everything that your little friends go through." He grinned as he felt her trying to move. "Perhaps I'll ask Mr Rickard if I can't be in on the kill myself … I'd like to be the one who snuffs out the life of everyone you've ever called a friend."

In one motion he forced open the storeroom door and dragged Sabrina away from the wall, before flinging her into the cold darkness of the room.

She crashed against one of the packing crates and then crumpled to the floor. Lewis looked at her dispassionately. "Don't worry... you won't have long to wait."

As the door shut with a slam and the key was turned in the lock, Sabrina pushed herself to her feet and examined her surroundings as best as she could. The room was bitterly cold, and there was an overriding smell of damp in the air from the mould that was slowly growing around the rotting window frame. She leant back against the wall and then slowly sank down towards the floor. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, and she found that she no longer had the strength to keep them at bay. She sat, with her knees pulled up to her chest and let the emotion she'd been holding back for so long have its release. She felt a sharp pain in her ribs with each racking sob, but took perverse comfort in the fact that she could feel anything at all. The tears came freely now, cascading over her swollen eyes as she let go of the pain that she'd tried to suppress for so long. For the first time in a long, long time she felt completely helpless. She'd come so far, and was now faced with the very real possibility of failure, and the knowledge that Kelly and Kris were going to suffer because of her. She finally cried the tears she had never shed for Michael, and for the people and the life that she had left behind and had missed so desperately for the last 18 months. She sat and she cried tears for the pain that Rickard had subjected her to time and time again during her association with him. She sat there and for the first time felt as though she wanted nothing more than to be free of life altogether.


	23. Chapter 23

_**I feel as though I should be starting every chapter with an apology for the delay. Many thanks as always for your patience and your views.**_

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* * *

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Tiffany leant against the side of the building and drew in much needed air. She'd made her way towards Broome Street as quickly as she could. She knew that the chances of getting there before the two uniformed cops were slim, but she'd clung to the idea. She had to believe that she'd be there first. She'd ignored the shouts and jibes from the locals as she pounded her way across the busy streets; her eyes darting around – always looking for something that didn't fit; didn't belong.

She tilted her head back and stared up at the darkening sky. Night was closing in but she had to keep moving. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the wall and glanced around. She caught sight of the distinctive livery of a patrol car in the periphery of her vision, and snapped her head to the left in time to see the car disappear around the block. It was a long shot, but it was worth looking into.

She trotted across the street and down towards the end of the block. The buildings that surrounded her had all seen better days. Most looked as though they had been abandoned years ago; boarded up as tighter fire regulations forced more and more small factories out of the district. With neighbours few and far between this was the perfect neighbourhood for someone who didn't want their business interfered with.

She followed the route that the car had taken, turning left at the end of the block. It was there that her luck ran out. There was no sign of the patrol car on the street. There was nothing but a collection of burnt out cars; their profiles vanishing into the long shadows that were starting to fall across the street. There was precious little street lighting in the area, and Tiffany was suddenly very aware that she was on her own. There were any number of empty doorways where a potential attacker could lie in wait.

She pushed the thought down, and made her way along the street; her eyes darting from side to side, looking out for any signs of life. If the car had just been using the street as a shortcut then she knew that she had lost the tail; there would be precious little chance of finding her friends. She pinned her hopes on the idea that the officers were using one of the abandoned buildings as a base.

* * *

Lewis tore at the zips of the two purses before turning them upside-down and letting the contents spill out onto the top of the table.

Rickard cast a measured glance at the untidy pile of objects. "I take it that Thomas is safely locked away?" he asked casually.

Lewis paused for a moment, before understanding what Rickard was getting at. "She won't be going anywhere," he reported.

Rickard sighed. "And she's no more damaged than when I last saw her?" He glanced up at Lewis looking for some sort of reaction. "No need to look at me like that," he told Lewis reprovingly. "With the way that she was carrying on, I thought she may have tried your patience even more than usual."

Lewis did his best to wipe the look of annoyance from his face. "She fought and scratched all the way to the storeroom, but I didn't lay a hand on her. I think she's got enough on her mind at the moment."

Rickard lifted the two handguns from the table and held them up for Lewis to see. "Well this is all very interesting," he remarked, placing one gun to the side and examining the other. "What do two well to do young ladies need with firearms?"

Lewis shrugged. "They're only 38's."

Rickard shook his head. "I'm more interested in why they are being carried," he tried to explain as patiently as he could. "Thomas tried to tell me that these two women were nothing more than charity bores." He placed the gun he was holding alongside the other one. "This is a most unusual approach to charity work."

He cast his eyes over the other items on the table, reaching forward and picking up the small pile of cards that were bound together with a rubber band. He slipped one of the cards free and read the detail printed on it. "Well, well, well," he exclaimed. "This just gets more and more intriguing."

"Huh?' Lewis put down the hotel key that he'd been examining and turned his attention to Rickard. "What is it?"

Rickard turned the card, and showed the detail to Lewis. "Seems as though our two ladies are not who they appear to be. From the looks of things, they've come a mighty long way to find Thomas, and I want to know why she's so keen to protect them."

Lewis pulled a face. "You don't think that..." he tailed off as he saw Rickard raise a hand.

"No guessing games Lewis. "I think we need to find out the answers at source."

* * *

Kris held her breath and squeezed Kelly's hand tighter. This wasn't the way things were supposed to go but, as she attempted to console herself, at least she wasn't on her own. It was a ridiculous thing to say but she was starting to feel bored. They had been standing, facing the wall, for what felt like hours but had probably only been a few minutes. The two officers had said nothing more, but Kris was afraid to ask them a question in case that was what caused them to shoot. Over the pounding of her heart she could still hear the regular breathing of the officers as they stood behind them in the semi gloom.

She jumped as the heavy metal entrance door crashed against the wall, finally letting out the breath that she had been holding.

"Apologies for the dramatics ladies," a male voice boomed out. "But you could say that I had a change of heart."

Kelly froze as she recognised the man's voice. It was unmistakeably that of Rickard's. She turned slowly and her eyes immediately fell upon the tall well-muscled thug that she'd seen at the opening on The Bowery. He had to be the man that Sabrina had warned her to stay away from. She now wished that she'd listened a little more to her friend's protests. She couldn't make out Rickard, but she knew that he was there somewhere. His voice was one that she wouldn't ever forget.

"You can go now boys," Lewis drawled to the two uniformed officers. The pair of them nodded mutely and holstered their guns. "I know I don't need to tell you to keep this to yourself," he reminded them. "You'll be rewarded in the usual way."

There was another exchange of nods and, without a backward glance, the two officers left.

Lewis ran his eyes over the two women who were now shaking with cold at the far end of the room. Even in the half light he liked what he could see. He let his eyes linger on them for a few more seconds before he remembered that Rickard was behind him. He moved to stand to one side and let his boss through the narrow opening and into the main room.

"I apologise for keeping you ladies, but I had a little business to attend to," Rickard announced smoothly as he wrapped his heavy overcoat around himself and approached the two women. He looked them up and down before taking a pace back. "I have to say that you've proved to be something of a disappointment Miss Garrett," he announced smoothly. He watched the way that she reacted to his use of her name. The shock on her face was palpable. He smiled. "Mary Thomas was good enough to put a name to the face for me." He turned and smiled politely at Kris. "She didn't identify you, but it's not really something that concerns me now."

He watched the expressions that passed between the two women. He had them on the back foot, which was exactly what he wanted. They were more likely to let information slip if they thought he knew more than he did. He smiled at them again. "As you can imagine I'm more than a little intrigued by the interest that you have shown in one of my employees. I'm here to find out exactly why you've spent so much time in her company, and why you, Ms Garrett tried to ingratiate yourself into my world." He gestured around the derelict room. "I can assure you that neither of you are leaving here until you tell me exactly what I want to know."

He watched the younger of the two women straighten up defiantly, and chuckled quietly. "Oh don't worry, if you decide that you don't want to tell me, I'll see to it that you don't leave here at all." He gestured towards Lewis. "My friend here has an impressive track record when it comes to extracting information. Don't try and convince yourself that you can outlast him," he advised. "The man has infinite patience, but there's no reason for us to resort to such barbaric methods."

Kelly looked at her surroundings. "Oh no, I'm sure you'd much rather sit down over a couple of glasses of wine and sort this out in a civilised manner!"

Rickard spread his hands wide. "You must understand my position. As a businessman I have to look after my employees. Your persistent hounding of Mary Thomas has piqued my interest. I want to know why you've been so interested in her. And there's also the small matter of your self-invitation to the little soiree of mine."

Kris glanced at Kelly, waiting to see how her friend was going to handle the situation.

"Please spare me the 'I don't know what you're talking about' routine," Rickard requested in a bored tone in response to the silence. "Let's just skip that particularly tiresome part of the dance. You have been looking for Mary Thomas and I want to know why."

"It really isn't what you think," Kelly began, "When I told you that I was a businesswoman, that wasn't a lie. I may have kept back the details of that business, but in the circumstances I don't think you'll blame me? The man we work with doesn't appreciate the way that Mary has been stepping into territory she's no business being anywhere near. Someone needed to remind her where the boundaries were."

There was a long pause and then Rickard laughed. "And that someone was you? Are you seriously expecting me to believe that you …."

"What?" Kris' tone was confrontational as she joined in on the conversation. "Mary's been seen selling where she shouldn't be. She's been venturing onto streets where she's got no business going. Sometimes a little more carrot and a little less stick pays off Mr Rickard. If Mary's found people to sell too, why the hell shouldn't we make the most of it? If she's determined to sell, there's no harm in cutting in on the profit."

Rickard's smile faded as he took in what the young woman was saying.

"Mary had some unwanted houseguests recently," Kris added. "The ones that the unfortunate Murray Buchanan had an encounter with. How do you think they found the place?"

Kelly thanked her friend inwardly for her contribution. She was spinning the tale in her head as she spoke, hoping that she could add enough detail to the lie to make Rickard believe that she was working for one of his rivals. Her whole plan would unravel if Rickard was to ask for any detail about her supposed boss, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind and concentrated on trying to keep Rickard engaged.

"All someone like Mary Thomas knows is people pushing her from one place to the next. After a while that tactic just stops working. You push a person so far and they just stop caring about where the push comes from," Kelly continued on with her line of reasoning. "You're not the only person she's been working for this past year."

Rickard chuckled beneath his breath as he pulled on the end of his leather gloves. "Your little tale is indeed fascinating, although not remotely believable"

Kelly shrugged. "The bigger the market you can appeal to, the more you can sell. Mary had the contacts; we just needed to persuade her to give up what she had. We can sell what she provides for a much higher price." She looked disdainfully at Rickard. "It's one thing dressing to look as though you own the city; it's another thing entirely to know the people who actually do. The little she told me at our recent meeting led me to attend your little shindig." She pulled a face. "That meeting was enough to tell me that your network isn't nearly as influential as you might like to think it is."

He raised an eyebrow. "You think that you have better contacts?"

Kelly smiled smoothly. "I know that I do, I don't need to fight over the ownership of a few city blocks."

Rickard smiled and then half-turned away from Kelly before spinning back and drawing the small collection of business cards from his pocket and throwing them in her direction. He stood impassively and watched as they fluttered to the floor around her.

"Don't lie to me," he raged. "Don't you dare stand there and lie to me. I want to know what the hell two private detectives from Los Angeles think they are doing in New York; and I particularly want to know why they're so interested in Mary Thomas."

"Ok, Ok... You got us. Someone hired us to find her," Kelly replied, hoping that she managed to keep her voice calm. Rickard's sudden about face had scared her more than she cared to admit. She had started to believe that they were getting somewhere with their bluff, but now she realised that Rickard had been onto them from the start.

Rickard folded his arms and regarded Kelly evenly. "So now you want me to believe that someone cares about the well-being of a piece of street trash like Thomas?" He smiled. "I think I preferred it more when you claimed to be dealers."

Kelly took a steadying breath. "She has a family … they want her back." She shrugged her shoulders. "That's all there is to it."

"And they can afford to hire people like you to look for her!" Rickard's smile was wide. "Please don't insult my intelligence any further Miss Garrett. The one thing Thomas doesn't have is money, and from the way that you're dressed I get the impression that you don't work for free. How do you know Thomas, and what are you doing here?"

"We **are** here looking for Mary," Kelly persisted. "But there is a little more to it."

Rickard folded his arms. "Let's hear it...and no lies this time...I'm not a patient man."

"No," Kelly replied flatly. "You're the sort of man who seems to get his jollies by frightening young women ... your mother must be so proud!"

"Careful," Rickard's tone was icy. "You can push things too far."

Kelly raised her hands in apology. "I'm sorry." She paused, debating what to tell the man standing in front of her. If she got it wrong then she didn't doubt that he would order his trained thug to kill them both. "Thomas isn't her real name," Kelly explained. She heard a murmur from Kris, and hoped that her friend would let her finish without jumping in. "She's the... well how can I put it... the 'unfortunate result' of an ill-advised relationship the man we work for entered into when he was younger, and frankly she's been nothing but a massive embarrassment to him. It's been one thing after another with her, and now he's finally had enough. He wants her somewhere he can keep a close eye on her. Her identity is not known to his business associates... but recently he's become concerned that someone has found out about her."

Rickard regarded Kelly with suspicion. "She's worth money?"

Kelly nodded. "Why else do you imagine that I'd be wasting my time with her? We persuade her to go back home and it's a nice little bonus for the both of us." She gave a half-smile. "Not such a good result for Mary though... I doubt that she'll get to see much of anything again."

Rickard arched an eyebrow. "So this is nothing more than a financial venture for you?"

"Despite the fact that he's never publically acknowledged her, Mary's father has always wanted to keep an eye on what she's doing... he hates the idea of her one day dragging the family name through the mud... that's where we come in. We've been watching her since she turned up living on the streets of Baltimore four years ago; making sure that she keeps out of trouble." Kelly smiled at Rickard as though she was letting him in on some sort of secret. "She thinks that we're there to help her out; that we're on her side. She doesn't realise that we're reporting everything back to her father."

Rickard tapped the one remaining card that he held upon his other hand. "So if I were to call the number on this card, I'd find someone who would verify your story?"

Kelly nodded. "He may be a little suspicious at first. As you can understand... he doesn't make his daughter's identity known to many people." She paused. "You want to cut a deal on the money we make for bringing her in... well I'm sure we can talk the boss into it."

Rickard smiled. "You really think that you're in a position to be making deals?"

"The man we work for has contacts and access to assets that you can only dream about," she told him smoothly. "Mary's worth more money to you alive than dead, but you won't get a penny for her unless we're in on the deal. Mr Townsend is nothing if not loyal to his staff."

Rickard regarded the two women for another moment or two. He shook his head. "Something about this whole thing seems a little too neat, a little too perfect." He gestured at the bare walls of the room. "I'm sorry that the accommodation isn't to your usual standards, but I'm afraid it will have to suffice for a short while whilst I investigate your little story."

Rickard turned; his shoes crunching on the loose stones on the floor. "I find that you've been lying to me and well ..." he let the sentence trail off. "Do I really need to tell you what will happen!"

The heavy metal door swung shut with an echoing clang, pitching the room into near blackness.

Kris shivered and folded her arms tightly across her chest. "You think he bought that?"

Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "I only hope Charlie plays along. It's a role he's taken on before, so I'm hoping he remembers it." She saw the confusion that passed across her friend's face. "Before your time," she explained. "With any luck Charlie will realise that we need some help and contact Tiffany."

Kelly rubbed her hands together as the chill in the room started to get to her. She took in Kris' uncharacteristic quietness. "Bri's still alive," she told her quietly. "Rickard wouldn't be considering the deal I've offered him if she wasn't."

Kris turned away and paced across the room. "I hope you're right."


	24. Chapter 24

**_Real life doing the crazy thing at the moment. I'll get back with the next chapter as soon as I can._**

**_

* * *

_**Tiffany moved an inch and winced at the pain that shot through her cramped muscles. She was chilled to the bone and her stomach was complaining about the fact that it was hours since she'd last eaten. She tried to push the hunger pangs down and keep her attention focussed on the buildings in front of her.

She'd had to wait nearly an hour for the patrol car to leave the parking lot. The lack of anyone in the rear seats of the car doing little to settle her nerves. She'd made a mental note of the registration plate. If the worst came to the worst, she'd at least be able to trace the names of the two officers concerned.

When she had satisfied herself that the patrol car wasn't coming back, she'd made her way down the rutted entranceway and into the loading area of what must have been at one point a garment factory. There had been no obvious signs of life, but a battered blue Sedan parked in the forecourt indicated that there was likely to be someone present.

She'd pressed her back up against the rough brick of the building as one of the side doors had opened without warning, and two men had paced out onto the forecourt; the light from the building spilling out onto the otherwise dark area. It was the first time that she'd been grateful for the lack of any overhead lighting; without the long reaching shadows she would have been easily spotted. She watched from her hiding place as the two men bolted the door behind them before climbing into the Sedan. Moments later the powerful headlights lit up the road in front of them and the car bumped its way across the pot-holed driveway to the road.

The near miss made her cautious, and she'd retreated to the relative safety of the road. Going in unarmed against superior numbers wasn't the smartest thing in the world, but she knew that she couldn't hang back much longer. If Kris and Kelly were in there, then she couldn't just stand back and wait, she had to try and help them. She reminded herself that, statistically dawn was the best time of the day to embark on a covert exploration. If anyone was awake in the place, then the chances were that they would be half-asleep, their senses dulled. As assurances went, it was pretty slim, but it was all she had to cling to right now. Straightening up, and stretching out her muscles, Tiffany made her way forward, clinging to the shadows.

* * *

Lewis glanced in the wing mirror, checking the traffic behind, before making the right turn.

"Where now?" he asked Rickard.

Rickard smiled, knowing that Lewis was trying to find a subtle way of asking whether or not they were going to be driving around all night.

"Drop me home, and then call it a night yourself. There's nothing more to be done until the morning."

He noticed the way that Lewis was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Something bothering you?" he enquired.

"It's nothing."

Rickard allowed himself a small smile. "They're going nowhere," he assured Lewis. "If you're so worried then you can spend the rest of the night back there with them. Just don't damage anyone this time." He saw a slight shake of the head out of the corner of his eye. "It's a three inch steel door bolted from the outside Lewis. You really think they can do anything about that?"

Lewis sighed heavily. "No sir. It's just..."

"I know Lewis; I know your preference for staying in touch with the merchandise. Grainger's still on site, and after his little foray into private enterprise with Thomas, I think he realises just what will happen if he disappoints me again."

Lewis chewed the side of his mouth. "What are you going to do with Thomas?"

There was a long pause from Rickard. "I'm still thinking Lewis ... still thinking."

* * *

Sabrina watched impassively as the cold grey fingers of dawn spread their way slowly across the sky, promising that the new day would be as cold and bleak as the previous one had been.

She rubbed her fingers across her tired swollen eyes and shivered in the freezing air that seemed to eat away at her very bones. When there were no longer any tears left to shed, she had remained seated upon the floor of the storeroom, listless; incapable of deciding what the next course of action should be. Finally, she had pulled herself to her feet and made her way across to the locked and barred window. She knew without checking that Rickard would have left a guard at her door. There had been no point in trying to get out of the room and onto the streets; her watchers would have undoubtedly been given instructions to do whatever it took to dissuade her from venturing further than the end of the block, and Sabrina no longer had the strength for the fight.

She glanced at the grey sky and knew that she had to come to some decision about what she was going to do. She had to face up to the very real prospect that, because of her, Rickard had had Kris and Kelly killed. The very thought caused a fresh wave of anger and frustration to wash over her. She had to do something; she had to make Rickard pay in some way for taking the life of her friends. She parted the slats of the blind, and stared out at the street – already early morning workers were making their way out of their apartments and bustling along the sidewalk to their place of employment. She checked again, failing to spot any of Rickard's tame gorillas. She had no doubt that they were out there, but now that the streets were beginning to get a little busier, she fancied her chances at being able to lose them if they were to pick up her tail.

She let the blind snap shut again, before stepping away from the window and catching a glimpse of herself in the small cracked mirror tile that was screwed to the wall. She was a mess – although Lewis hadn't added any new bruises to her face, there were still the remains of the last ones – her eyes now looking worse because of the way that she had lost it earlier. She wiped angrily at the eyes that had betrayed her; they were red and inflamed, a lack of sleep would soon add dark rings beneath them. If she was going to go ahead with the plan that had just formed in her mind, then she needed to move soon before Lewis or one of Grainger's other thugs came to end her life.

* * *

Kelly's grip automatically tightened on Kris' hand as she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps outside. Kris shifted her position slightly and tried to snuggle closer to Kelly, seeking out a little extra warmth. Despite their predicament, Kelly failed to stop the smile that ghosted across her face. Back during their academy days, Jill would spin stories about the way that her kid sister was a heat magnet. She'd always laughed at the tales that ended with Kris curled up in the blanket and Jill shivering with only the smallest corner left to try and keep her warm, and in the past few hours she'd experienced the phenomenon for herself.

Kelly nudged Kris gently, pressing a finger to her friend's lips as soon as she showed signs of stirring. If the footsteps outside signalled the return of Rickard and his tame thug, then the least they could do was be prepared to go down fighting.

Kris crouched down and felt around on the floor, trying to find something to use as a weapon. She remembered the loose brickwork that had caused them both to stumble and lose their footing. If she could find just one loose brick, then she'd at least have a little something to use in self defence.

There was a pause and then she heard the bolts on the other side of the door being slowly drawn back. Kris pressed herself up against the wall and waited for the door to be pulled open. In the half-light that was revealed she made out a vaguely human-shaped object and launched herself at it. Kelly's cry to hold back came too late for her to pull up, but it was urgent enough to make her draw her attack to one side.

"Owww," a decidedly familiar voice wailed, as the brick struck its target.

Kris immediately dropped the brick and tried to look suitably contrite. "I didn't know it was you," she protested.

Tiffany's response was lost within Kelly's enveloping hug. She returned the gesture, but then pulled away, one hand rising to gently probe the tender area on her head where the brick had struck her.

"We have to get out of here," she urged her friends. "I saw one car depart, and although I've not seen anyone else on the premises..."

"Point taken," Kelly stepped back away from her friend. "Let's get somewhere warm and away from here."

Reaching out with a hand for Kris, Kelly made her way out into the gloom of the early morning, her teeth chattering with the cold.

"How did you find us?" she wanted to know as Tiffany led the way stealthily towards the exit.

"It wasn't easy," Tiffany hissed under her breath, wishing that Kelly would keep her voice down. She stopped suddenly, and moments later felt Kelly barrelling into the back of her.

"What's up?"

Tiffany shook her head. "I thought I heard something."

"It's probably my stomach rumbling," Kris whispered from the back of the small party.

Tiffany shook her head. "There was something, I'm sure of it."

Kelly sighed. "Can you hear it now?" she asked, humouring her friend.

Tiffany waited for a few moments before reluctantly shaking her head. "Whatever it was, it's gone," she admitted and led the way towards the exit.

Kris shivered again in the freezing air. "I can't wait to crank up the heating in the car. I'm feeling as though I'm never going to be warm again."

"Ahh..." Tiffany hesitantly replied. "... about the car. There's something I have to tell you..."

* * *

Sabrina swore again as the wooden window frame refused to budge. She'd been working at it for the best part of the last hour, but it was still refusing to co-operate. She'd wanted to yell at it in frustration, but knew that a loud noise was liable to alert any of Rickard's goons who might still be in the building and she was in no condition to take any of them on.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before trying again. She'd broken the mirror tile that had been on the wall, and was using one of the sharp shards to work on the rotted frame of the window.

She pulled up one of the packing cases to the window and sat on it, kicking out at the corner of the frame with both feet. She allowed herself a small smile of hope, as she felt the window frame move. She repeated the action, trying to ignore the protests that her bruised ribs were making. There was a satisfying sound as the rotted frame began to give way. If she managed to kick the frame lose, the chances were that the whole window, bars and all would come crashing down to the ground, but she knew that she had to try something to get away before Rickard came back.

* * *

If the waitress at the small diner was surprised by the slightly rumpled appearance of her early morning customers, she was too much of a professional to say anything. She poured them coffee, and shot them a friendly smile as she handed out the menus.

"You ladies be sure to give me a call when you need a refill," she advised them. "There's a fresh pot ready for you whenever you need it."

Tiffany thanked the woman, and watched as she bustled her way back towards the counter, whistling cheerfully as she went.

"We must look terrible," she smiled wearily across the table to Kelly and Kris.

Kelly nodded and reached gratefully for the coffee in front of her. "I can't say that it's a night I'm keen to repeat," she admitted. "I hope you've got money on you," she added as she replaced her cup in its saucer. "Rickard's rent a thugs cleaned us out." She exchanged a glance with Kris. "They took everything from our purses. It's as though they were still hunting for details about who we were."

Kris' eyes widened, wanting to believe Kelly; wanting to believe that there was some way of proving that Bri hadn't betrayed them to Rickard.

Tiffany missed the look as she was reaching for the bag that sat at her feet.

"I'm an idiot," she remonstrated with herself as she tugged at the zipper on her bag.

Kris and Kelly exchanged confused glances.

"I'm sure we can write the waitress an IOU for the coffee," she tried to placate her friend. "I don't think it's really that much of an issue."

"It's not that," Tiffany hastily replied. "With everything that's happened in the past few hours I can't believe that I forgot all about these." She pulled out the files that she had lifted from Thornford's office. She placed them carefully down on the table and sorted through them till she came to Michael's. She wordlessly handed the file to Kelly.

The confused expression on Kelly's face changed as she flicked through the information within.

"I think this is the man that Charlie sent in with Sabrina," Tiff gestured towards the file. "I found that and a pile of others hidden away in a drawer in Thornford's office."

Kris shook her head in disbelief as she glanced through the witness statements that were pinned within the file. "There's a report here from a witness that does everything, including naming one Harrison Lewis as a possible suspect."

"You can bet your life that nothing was done to follow up on that report," Tiffany replied, failing to hide the disgust in her voice.

"It's more than a little careless of Thornford to leave a file like that hanging around in his office," Kelly remarked.

"Who was ever going to question him about it?" Tiffany countered. "It concerns the death of someone that no-one cares about. Michael's body wasn't claimed from the mortuary. The city paid for his funeral. I'm guessing that Thornford is keeping these files to hand so that he can bury them amid other cases. He tells some career criminal that they'll get a better deal if they agree to accept responsibility for something that they didn't do." She looked at the expression on the faces of her two companions. "When they thought Sabrina was dead they were looking for ways to clear the books of a few unsolved crimes by laying the blame at her feet. What's to say that Thornford's not doing this on a greater scale?"

"That's a bit of a stretch," Kelly was dubious.

"But we've seen the way that Rickard has friends in high places. I don't think it's that much of a leap to imagine that he's got them clearing up after him as well."

Kris shivered. "Rickard's a nasty piece of work alright. It's like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and yet you just know that he's been the root cause of so many needless deaths in this city."

Tiffany shook her head. "I'd say that Rickard had more than a couple of cops in his pocket. Had the feeling that whatever time of day he made that call, there'd be someone around to take it." She paused, before selecting another file. "There's more."

She pushed the file across the desk and waited for the reaction of her two friends.

"Harrison Lewis. Not one of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet."

Kris let out a low whistle as she flicked through the pages of the file. "Definitely not someone that you'd want to take home to meet mother," she agreed.

Kelly stifled a yawn and pushed the file back down on the table. "We'll have to come back to this; there are some more immediate concerns. Rickard has the contents of our purses," she explained to Tiffany. "Not only does that tell him who we are, it also tells him where we're staying... and more importantly who we work for." She held her hands up in apology. "There were some business cards in my purse... I'm sorry."

Tiffany shrugged off the apology. "First things first, we have to get the pair of you off of the street and into hiding. I'm not taking no for an answer. We need to get into a new hotel. I'll arrange for us to check out of the old one and get all our things moved..." she paused as she saw the determined expression on Kelly's face. "I know you're not going to like this, but with Rickard out looking for you, I need to make sure that you're both safe. Rickard catches up with you again, and I don't think its deals he's going to want to be making."

Kelly nodded her head reluctantly, realising that Tiffany was right. "I need to call Charlie, let him know what's going on. If Rickard hasn't made contact with him yet, then it's only a matter of time. I need to make sure that we're all reading from the same page on this one."

Tiffany turned her attention to Kris who was slowly stirring her coffee, watching the swirls as they lazily moved around the cup. "Are you ok?"

"Hmm?" Kris raised head and forced a smile onto her face as she met Tiffany's concerned look. "I'm fine ... just a little worried that's all. We offered Rickard a deal based on him getting money for Bri if he worked with us. Well we're not going to be there when he gets back. If Sabrina's still with him..." she tailed off for a moment. "I'm just worried that he might decide that it was simpler just to cut his losses."

"Sabrina will be fine," she said, attempting to reassure her friend. The look on Kris' face told her that she'd failed.

She reached out and wrapped an arm around her. "We'll find her Kris. We'll find her and we'll get out of this."

Kris let out an exclamation of frustration. "But she could be anywhere. A city this size, and with Rickard owning so much that we can't even begin to guess about ... it's a needle in a haystack job, and you know it." She starred down at the floor again. "We can't be one hundred percent certain that she's still …"

Kelly reached across and squeezed her friend's arm. "Don't say it Kris, please. I have to believe that she's still out there. I don't think Rickard would have wanted to talk to us if Bri wasn't still in the picture..." Her hand dropped from Kris' arm as a thought stuck her. "What if Bri was there? What if Sabrina was in that building and we just left her there?"

"We go back?" Kris immediately replied, but Tiffany shook her head.

"We go bursting back in there and we may do nothing but get ourselves killed," she pointed out forcefully. "We have to do this carefully. Sabrina's not going to thank us for getting ourselves into trouble." She pointed a finger at her two friends. "There's no time to waste. We need to find you somewhere secure to contact Charlie. I'm going to get to the hotel and make sure that there's nothing there that Rickard can get to and use against us."

Taking a final mouthful of coffee, Tiffany pushed herself to her feet, trying to ignore her aching muscles. There would be plenty of time to rest when everything was sorted out.

* * *

The persistent ring of the phone pulled Rickard from the depths of a dreamless sleep. He reached blindly around on his bedside table, not wanting to open his eyes and take in what the time was. Finally he located the receiver and lifted it from its cradle. "This had better be good," he growled into the phone, his voice thick with sleep.

The next words he heard from Grainger brought him to his senses in a matter of seconds. He pushed back the covers as he sat bolt upright in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his free hand. "What the hell is going on over there?" he roared into the phone. "I want them found. I want them found and I want them found now."

He slammed the phone angrily back into its cradle and swore loudly. This was not the way that things were supposed to go, he told himself. He snatched up the business card from the table. He had been planning on waiting to check out the story at a more civilised hour, but now he felt that his hand had been forced. He needed to know for certain if the two women had been on the level. If they weren't then they were going to find out the hard way that it wasn't a good idea to cross him. He paused mid-way through lifting the receiver again. Lewis had been the one to place the voice of suspicion in his head. If the two women did work for this Charles Townsend there was always the remote chance that Mary Thomas was more than she appeared. The idea seemed unlikely to him. Mary simply wasn't in the same class as the other two. Still, there was little to be lost in being thorough. Reaching out again, he lifted his contacts book from the top drawer of the small cabinet. There were a few checks that needed to be carried out.


	25. Chapter 25

Harry Gage glanced up from his morning newspaper as he pushed open the door to his office, balancing his coffee cup in one hand and trying to read the front page of his newspaper. A cold draught ruffled the pages, and chilled his face.

He frowned. His office wasn't much to speak of, but the one thing he insisted on was that it was kept warm. He couldn't abide the cold; he hated the feel of its icy grip closing around him as winter tightened its hold on the city. He cursed loudly and turned his head to yell at the man who sat on guard in the hallway.

"You let anyone in here Carl?" he bellowed; allowing himself a small smile of satisfaction as the large man nearly fell out of his chair. "You let anyone in here, and I'll see to it that you spend the next few months making deliveries to New Jersey. I just know how popular you are over there."

His threats were met with protestations of innocence. Gage tired of hearing them and stepped into his office, pushing the door closed behind him.

"Don't blame the gorilla in a suit out there," a woman's voice told him calmly. "The draught is my fault."

Gage swore as he spilt scalding coffee over his fingers. He'd believed that he was alone in his office; the guard outside had certainly done nothing to warn him that he had a guest.

He scanned the room looking for the source of the voice. His eyes finally came to rest on the back of the chair in front of him. It was his chair. It was the one thing in the office that he'd spent money on. It was his chair; and no-one, but no-one was permitted to sit in it, unless he gave the say so.

He slammed the coffee cup down onto the desk, the newspaper already scattered, its pages forgotten, upon the floor. The occupant of the chair sat back and made the chair swivel in his direction, before he could reach out a hand and grab the back of it.

Gage glared with undisguised anger at the woman who was sat there. Her face was marked with bruises and her eyes were rimmed with tiredness as though she'd not had a decent night's sleep in a long time; a blooded handkerchief was wrapped around her left hand.

"Just what the hell do you think you are doing in my office?" he took a pace towards her, but she immediately held up a hand.

"I'm here to make you an offer," she explained quickly, using her weight to push the chair back a few inches. "It's something I know you'll want to hear." She gestured down at the chair she was sat in, before glancing back up at him. "This is about the chair, isn't it? I'll move."

Gage watched as the woman levered herself slowly to her feet. She moved with the cautiousness of someone carrying an injury, and he fought back against the urge to reach forward and yank her bodily out of his chair.

"You better have a damn good reason for being in here," he told her as she moved slowly around his desk to seat herself on one of the hard-backed chairs that were placed there.

"I came in the back way," she told him as she lowered herself slowly down.

"There isn't a back way," Gage retorted sharply.

He watched as the woman shrugged her shoulders.

"There is now." She let out a thin smile. "I'm sorry about the window. I'd offer to pay but..." she let the sentence trail off.

Gage glared at her as he reached for his coffee. There was a voice in his head that told him to simply call out to the idiot who was currently sitting on his fat ass in the hallway, and have the woman thrown out onto the streets, but he chose to ignore that voice for the present moment. He sat back in his chair, and regarded her for a few moments.

"You broke into my office; I assume you didn't come here simply for the view?"

"I came with a proposition," she flashed him a smile. "A very profitable proposition."

Gage folded his arms. "I'm listening."

"Let's start at the beginning. My name's Mary Thomas..."

Gage was on his feet in a heartbeat. Three strides brought him to the other side of the desk and he grabbed hold of the woman's coat in both hands, hauling her out of the chair, which toppled over as he pushed his closed fists up under her chin.

"I'm here to offer you a deal," she spoke again; her voice not betraying any note of fear.

"You think I want anything to do with one of Rickard's little whores?" he spat, turning and yanking her bodily towards the door.

She offered little by way of resistance, and moments later he threw her against the wall of his office; watching dispassionately as she crumpled towards the floor.

"You gotta have some serious death wish going lady," he shook his head. "What made you think you could just walk in here, without expecting a little trouble?"

Sabrina lifted her head slowly, trying to ignore the way that her vision was blurring. She fixed Gage with what she hoped was a steady gaze.

"I want to offer you Rickard... on a platter ... yours for the taking," she fought to keep her voice steady as she raised her bandaged hand to wipe away the trickle of blood that ran down her cheek.

Gage stood over her, trying to gauge whether or not he could trust her.

"Would I walk in here if I wasn't on the level?" She asked the question that was buzzing around in his head.

Finally reaching a decision, he turned away from her and paced back across the room; righting the chair he'd knocked over before settling back into his own seat. He gestured towards the chair. "Before I throw you to the wolves; I may as well listen to what you have to say."

He reached for his coffee again, waiting for Sabrina to pull herself painfully to her feet and make her way back to the chair.

"So why are you here?" Gage asked her as she lowered herself down.

"Because I've had enough of this," Sabrina told him through gritted teeth. "I don't have the energy for the fight any longer. I just want it over."

Gage sat back in his chair and regarded the woman in front of him. For someone who'd been causing him nothing but trouble these past few months she didn't look like much. He folded his arms. "And what do you have that you think would interest me?"

"Suppliers, dates, times, locations. The whole nine yards." She shifted her weight on the chair. "You want it; it's all yours."

"Uh huh," Gage started levelly at her for a few moments. "And what's the reason behind this sudden change of heart – this desire to bite the hand that feeds?"

"These past few days ... everything that's happened. It has to stop ... it has to stop before anyone else dies."

Gage shook his head. "You think you can just wave your hand and it will all be over? I never considered you that naive."

Sabrina shrugged. "If I can just stop one more person from dying ... that'll be enough," she told him honestly.

Gage studied the young woman thoughtfully, taking in the bruising he could see, and wondering just how much more she was hiding.

"I've sent people out to kill you," he told her. "I've had cause to celebrate your death already, and yet here you are, like the proverbial bad penny, turning up here and expecting what? Me to welcome you and your 'offering' with open arms? To be grateful that you chose to come here with your pathetic little plea for world peace?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry Miss Thomas; I'm not taking the bait in this particular trap."

Sabrina shook her head. "That's not what this is about," she told him quietly. "I have the information that can stop Rickard. He needs to be stopped." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not here looking for some fat pay check. I just want to give this information to someone who can actually make a difference; someone who can put a stop to the wholesale slaughter that's taking place out there." She reached a hand into her jacket pocket and withdrew a crumpled sheet of paper. She dropped it down on the desk. "A little something in good faith," She nodded down at it. "Send one of your boys to check this out in the next hour and you can collect something that Rickard will miss."

"Well pardon me if I don't immediately fall to my knees with gratitude," Gage told her coldly. "I'm not here to be played. I'm not here to walk into some elaborate set up. What's to say that Rickard didn't send you?"

"If you contact your man at Rickard's, he'll tell you just how popular I am over there at the moment. He wants me dead even more than you do."

She watched as he opened his mouth to protest. "Oh come on," she chided. "I know you have someone inside Rickard's organisation … it's what I'd do."

He regarded her silently for a few moments and then gestured towards the door. "So you've worked your way in here and made your ultimatum. You think I'm just going to let you walk out again?"

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. "You don't, and you don't get what I'm selling."

Gage shook his head. "You got some nerve. What's to stop me calling in Carl from outside, and having him beat that information right out of you? You think that we're all so noble round here that we wouldn't lift a hand to a woman?"

"I've been around the Neanderthals you employ long enough to know that they'd beat up their own grandmothers if you asked them too," she told him calmly. "I'm banking on the fact that you want Rickard out of business just as much as I do."

"You've got to give me something," Gage told her firmly. "Something more than just a few supplies that Rickard will be able to replace within a day or two."

Sabrina smiled "I forget who said 'Cut off the head and the body will wither'. It doesn't really matter I guess, because I'm here to tell you that they're wrong. You go in and kill Rickard; someone else will just take his place. You want to really get Rickard; want to really get him where it hurts? Cut him off at the knees – take out his suppliers; take away his power to control. Then watch as they turn on him."

Gage looked evenly at her. "You know his suppliers?"

"You think Rickard does any of his own dirty work? He sends people out to do everything for him... doesn't like to get his own hands soiled with anything that could be traced back to him. I know more about that man's organisation than he does. I can tell you when shipments arrive, who delivers them and where the money is laundered. You want him ... he's yours." She nodded down at the scrap of paper that still sat unclaimed on the table. "This ... this is just to show you that I can deliver what I promise."

"Hmmm," Gage thought about what he'd just heard. "You have all this knowledge," he queried. "Why haven't you done anything with it?"

"It takes strength in numbers to put him out of business; that's something I don't have. You do."

"And what do you want for this? I'm assuming that it's not an act of selfless generosity on your part!"

"I want to get away from here," Sabrina told him quietly. "I want to get out of this city; to get far enough away that I no longer breathe in the fumes that fill the air, or tread on the crud that coats the pavements." She raised her head to meet his gaze. "I just want this over and done with."

"I get Rickard; you'll get your wish," he promised, finally reaching a decision.

Gage met the woman's gaze as he took her hand to shake on the deal. It unnerved him to see the expression in her eyes. She understood; she was under no illusions – when the deal was completed she would no longer be of any use to him. She hadn't asked for a ticket out of town, or demanded money to get away. There wasn't an out for her in the deal, but she didn't seem to care.

He released her hand and she nodded towards the door. "You want to get me an escort out of here? I get the feeling that I'm not on the welcome list."

"Of course." He picked up the phone. "Just one question I want to ask you. How did you know where to find me?"

He watched the smile that ghosted across her face. "Rickard's isn't the only empire I've been watching. You ought to tell Laverne and Shirley that they need to smarten their act up. A wet behind the ears rookie cop could follow them back here, and they wouldn't know it."

He frowned. "Snooping around in things that don't concern you can lead to injury."

There was another brief smile. 'You say that like it's news!"

"When do you propose to deliver the rest of this information?"

"Give me an hour or two. I have some loose ends to tie up first." She gestured down at her own appearance. "I've had a busy few hours."

Gage took in the state of her clothes. He had fleetingly wondered what had happened to her, but he'd not been interested enough to enquire. It certainly looked as though she was finding trouble at every turn.

He looked away as she caught him staring. "You've got two hours," he told her before picking up the phone on his desk and making a call.

Moments later a smartly-suited man entered the room. Sabrina ignored the look of distain he shot in her direction.

"Escort our visitor safely out of the building," Gage told the man with a wave of his hand. "See that no harm comes to her..." He glanced at her again. "...Drive her wherever she wants to go. I really don't think the neighbours need to see her."

"There's a small diner on Crosby, just off Houston," Sabrina told Gage as she passed him. "If I see any sign of your thugs as I approach then I'm out of there," she warned him.

He nodded brusquely. "I'll be there."

Gage sat and watched as the young woman left the office. Moments later Branning appeared in the doorway.

He gestured back towards the corridor. "Was that Thomas I just saw leaving?" there was a tone of disbelief in his voice.

Gage's mouth was set in a hard line. "That was indeed Mary Thomas with a very interesting proposition."

Branning gestured back towards the corridor again. "She's just walking out of here? You want me and Lawson to follow her, find out where she's heading?"

Gage thought about the question for a moment and then shook his head. "Leave her. She works out that you're behind her and she may well change her mind."

"But…" Branning was at a loss as to why she'd even been in the building.

"I have a meeting scheduled with Miss Thomas in a few hours. After that … she's all yours. In the meantime, I want to find out what's been happening. It's not every day someone walks in and offers you your nemesis' head on a platter."

* * *

Kelly paced impatiently across the dingy motel room, the body of the phone in one hand, the receiver in the other.

"I'm telling you Charlie, they won't find us here!" She rolled her eyes and looked over at Kris who was seated on the bed, picking holes in the already worn bedcover. "Nobody would ever find us here Charlie, because trust me when I say that no-one would ever think of looking for us here. Even the landlord asked us twice if we were certain we wanted to rent a room."

She turned again as she reached the far wall. "We're not prepared to just sit here and wait Charlie. Sabrina is still out there, and now more than ever she needs our help."

Kris watched Kelly's mouth harden into a line. She was obviously not happy with the things that Charlie was telling her. She pushed herself off the bed and moved to her friend's side, taking hold of the receiver and tilting is slightly in her direction so that she could hear what was being said. She only caught the tail end of the sentence, but it was obvious that Charlie had been warning Kelly to keep a low profile.

"If you've backed up the story that we spun to Rickard, then he's got no reason to wish either of us harm," Kris pushed her way into the conversation. "In fact, he would only stand to gain money if he kept us alive."

"As I was just explaining to Kelly, that's not a risk I'm prepared to let you take," Charlie replied as gently as he could. "Rickard may just decide to try and make the deal without you. You've done well. Let me handle things from here. Mr Rickard seemed very interested in the idea of a financial reward for the safe return of Sabrina."

Kelly exchanged a quick glance with Kris. Neither one of them believed for a minute that Rickard would keep his word.

"I don't trust that trained thug of his," Kelly attempted to sway Charlie's view. "Bri warned us to keep away from a man called Harrison Lewis. That name mean anything to you Charlie?"

"It does indeed angel. Sabrina mentioned him early on. He's Rickard's enforcer." There was a brief pause on the other end of the line whilst Charlie located the relevant file. "Harrison Robert Lewis. Thirty five years of age. Joined the Army upon leaving school and saw service as a marine in Vietnam. His military record is littered with incidents of over zealousness, and he appears to have spent as much time in the brig as he did on active service. He was discharged from the Army in 73 and then runs up a civilian rap sheet for eight months before seeming to become something of a reformed character."

Kris shook her head. "He only appears to be reformed because Rickard has a tame cop at the station covering up for him. Tiffany unearthed a file there that implicates him in Michael's death."

"Where is Tiffany?" there was a cautious note in Charlie's voice.

Kelly looked at Kris before answering. "She's headed back to the hotel. She's going to gather all our things together and then bring them here. She also mentioned something about paying a fine to the car rental company."

"It's too dangerous to keep going back to The Belvedere," Charlie warned. "I'll try and arrange for someone to stop by there and collect any mail that may be left for you. If Rickard is keeping an eye on the place, it'll only be a matter of time before he realises that Tiffany is working with you."

Kelly exchanged a glance with Kris; wanting approval from her friend before she asked the next question. "Has Rickard made contact since this morning?"

"I'm afraid not," Charlie's voice was quiet. "I cancelled my remaining appointments to make sure that I was free to take his call, but there's been nothing so far."

Kelly rubbed a hand across her tired eyes. "I don't understand it. I thought you said he was interested."

"Maybe he's determined to make me wait," Charlie suggested. "Perhaps he's hoping that I'll be willing to raise the price. Try not to worry Kelly; I have no doubt that he'll call."

Kelly's reply was non-committal; she wouldn't be happy until she knew that Sabrina was safe.

"Tiff made a note of the licence plate of the police cruiser that picked Kelly and I off the street," Kris interrupted. "Any chance you can take a look into that for us? The two guys wore name tags identifying them as Weston and Gallagher. Can't be certain that they were being honest and upfront about their identities, but that cruiser has to be signed out to someone."

"I'll get right on it. If you haven't already done so, then I'd advise Tiffany to break off her contact with the local station house. Until we know where the rot stops, it's too dangerous for her to go back in there."

"Agreed," Kris sighed heavily. "I'm not happy to just sit here and wait for Rickard to decide that the time is right to make his demands." She glanced at Kelly. "I know it sounds stupid, but I almost wish that we'd stayed with Rickard. At least then we might have seen Bri."

"You were right to get out of there angel," Charlie reassured her. "If Rickard had the three of you, then he'd have been able to play one off against the other. This is the safest option for all of you. Rickard seems motivated by money I'll see what I can do to exploit that."

"Ok Charlie. Just promise us that you'll call as soon as you hear anything... anything."

* * *

Sabrina sat at the far end of the small booth and stared into the cup of coffee that sat on the table in front of her. Next to her on the scratched, stained surface of the table lay an unfinished letter. She had been seated in the small diner for nearly an hour, the coffee still remained untouched but the letter was slowly growing – line by line.

The sour-faced waitress made another turn of the tables – coffee pot in hand – and Sabrina tuned out the heavy sighs and pointed remarks that the woman made as she passed. The diner was almost empty, and Sabrina resigned herself to staying where she was until she had completed the letter.

She glanced up at the clock that sat above the serving counter. Time was pushing on; there was still so much to do before her scheduled meeting with Gage. Things had to be sorted out; affairs put in order before she met with the man.

Her attention drifted back to the unfinished letter. Never had a simple letter been so hard to compose. She reached out and pulled the sheets of paper back in front of her. She wished that she could in some way soften the blow – in some way disguise the true meaning of the words that she was writing, but she knew that she owed Jill the truth. The others were due an explanation of the facts, but Jill … she deserved more than that.

She scanned through the words that she had written. Never had language felt so unwieldy and ill-suited to the task at hand. How did a person explain to another that the world that they knew had just been blown apart and blown apart by a person that they trusted and counted as a friend!

She wiped a hand across her tired eyes and tried to find a way to explain the events that had taken place over the past few days. She didn't have the energy to try and explain to her friend why she had lied about her location and status for the last eighteen months; that was something that could be explained by someone else at a later date. What she had to do was try and find a way to tell Jill that Kris and Kelly were gone – and that there was only one place to lay the burden of blame.

Sabrina turned her head and looked out of the heavily dirt streaked window onto the sidewalk beyond. As always, the sidewalk was bustling with people, all intent on their own business – all oblivious to those who passed by them only a few inches away.

She watched mutely as light white flakes of snow began to fall from the heavens upon them. Her only remaining regret was the knowledge that, by the time the letter reached its destination, she wouldn't be there for Jill to rage at. She would also be gone;


	26. Chapter 26

Sabrina raised her eyes from the letter as a dark shadow fell across the table.

"I wasn't sure that you'd be here," Gage told her as he signalled to the waitress, indicating that he wanted coffee.

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. "There wasn't anywhere else to go," she told him hollowly.

He glanced down at the sheets of paper that were spread out across the surface of the table. "Is this what I'm here for?"

Sabrina gathered the pages of the letter together and pushed them into her bag as the waitress arrived on the scene and placed the cup and saucer down. She glanced between Gage and Sabrina, as though she didn't believe that a smart suited man like Gage should be dealing with someone like Sabrina.

Gage smiled at the woman and thanked her politely for the coffee. She nodded her head, embarrassed at having been caught staring, and retreated back to the serving counter.

Gage nodded at the bag that Sabrina was now clutching tightly, trying to disguise his own interest at the letter she was so zealously protecting. "You have something for me?"

Sabrina paused for a moment before reaching into her bag and pulling out a plain buff envelope. She placed it down on the table top, before sliding it in Gage's direction. "It's everything I promised," she assured him, as he wordlessly accepted the package. "He changes routes and drop off points on a regular basis, so I wouldn't wait too long before moving."

Gage felt her eyes on him as he pushed the envelope into his overcoat pocket, and placed a plain white envelope on the table in its place. He wasn't going to sit there and look at the information there and then. He pushed the white envelope across the table towards her. "Why here?" he asked her. "Why make the exchange here?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Somewhere public means that I get to walk away. I doubted that you'd place yourself at the scene of a crime if there were likely to be witnesses around."

Gage's smile was humourless. "You think so little of my word?"

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders again. "There is still something I need to do. Some business that remains unfinished. I just need one more hour." She slid out from the booth and swung her bag up onto her shoulder. "Thanks for the coffee."

Gage watched the woman as she left the small diner. He pulled his wallet from inside his overcoat and pulled out a couple of bills, dropping them down onto the table. She was smarter than he'd given her credit for. He, of course, was going to have Branning and Lawson take care of her but he'd give her the chance to complete whatever it was she wanted to do first. He recalled the letter that she'd been so eager to hide from him. He wanted to find out what it contained… why she was so keen to keep whatever was written in it from him.

He pulled open the door to the diner and the falling snow gusted towards him. He nodded across the street at Branning and watched as the man climbed from the car, and set off after Thomas. He'd find out what she was hiding from him, and then he'd have Branning put her out of her misery.

As he pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his overcoat, he heard a hesitant call from behind him. He turned to see the waitress standing there; a white envelope clutched in her hand, the top corner now torn away revealing the money inside.

"I think you left this behind," she called after him, her teeth already starting to chatter as the freezing weather whipped through her clothing.

Gage's eyes fell upon the envelope. Thomas hadn't taken the money. He'd somehow known that she wouldn't. He turned back and began to walk away. "Think of it as a tip," he called back over his shoulder to the astonished waitress.

* * *

Sabrina made the effort to smile at the concierge. She had noticed the way that he stiffened as she emerged through the revolving door, as though he was always on the alert for those people who had the temerity to enter into a place where they didn't belong. His steps were rangy; eager to get to her side and grab her by the arm – force her back out onto the street where he obviously thought that she should be. She smiled at him, and stepped back away from the hand that was intent on closing around her right arm. She hadn't seen him as she'd carried out her initial check of the lobby from the sidewalk outside. She had hoped that she'd be able to make her delivery and be out of the building before he spotted her. Now that hope was dashed.

"I have a letter to deliver," she told him smartly, reaching into the rucksack that she was carrying slung over one shoulder.

A hand closed over her own and pushed the envelope she was reaching for back into the bag.

"The tradesman's entrance is around back," he told her with a sneer.

"This is for one of your guests, and it's of utmost importance that they receive it." She nodded towards the main desk, as she shook her hand free and reached for the letter again. "I left a message here a few days ago. The clerk back there will vouch for me."

The concierge plastered a professional smile on his face and resolved to have a few stern words with the desk clerk who hadn't simply thrown the woman back out on the street again. He looked at her again, and recalled that he'd seen her before. She was the crazy who'd almost succeeded in getting herself run over on the previous day.

She thrust a buff coloured envelope into his hand, and looked at him searchingly. "This needs to go to Kelly Garrett or Kris Munroe," she told him, struggling to get the names out without her voice breaking. For the first time she wished that she'd found out Tiffany's last name. It was still painfully raw to think of her friends.

"Please," she covered his hand with hers. "This is important. You will see that it gets to them, won't you?"

"And what precisely are you delivering them?" the tone in the man's voice was condescending. "Do you seriously expect me to believe that you could have anything in common with the people who can afford to stay here!" He pushed the envelope back into Sabrina's hands and then pushed her around, so that she faced the exit. "There are two ways that we can do this," he told her quietly. "You can leave quietly and we'll forget that this ever happened, or you can make a scene and I can promise you that I will not hesitate to call the police and have you arrested for public nuisance." He placed a hand between her shoulder blades. "I get the impression that you're more than familiar with the inside of the local station house."

Sabrina tried to turn back to face the concierge, but he was waiting for the move and simply pushed her forward. She stumbled slightly and that gave the concierge the opening he needed. Taking advantage of her momentary loss of balance, he gripped her right arm by the wrist and elbow and propelled her towards the door.

"Try coming in here again and I'll make sure that you need the attention of one of the emergency services," he warned, whispering the words into her ear.

Realising that it was useless to protest any further, Sabrina relented, and let the concierge push her out through the revolving door and onto the sidewalk.

He gave her a shove as he released his grip on her, and she stumbled across the path of several people as she struggled to retain her footing.

Ignoring the abuse and black looks from the passersby, Sabrina straightened herself up and turned to look back up at the imposing facade of the hotel. She had to get the letter she was carrying into the suite that her friends had been staying in. The letter would hopefully explain to Charlie what had happened. She knew that Tiffany would check back in at the hotel at regular intervals, waiting for information from Kelly and Kris. The least she could do was try and explain what had happened. She fought down the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. She didn't have the time to waste dodging around an overbearing concierge, who acted as though he was over-compensating for his failure to get in the marines. She had to find another way in. One letter was already on the way to Jill, but she didn't want to wait for the delay of the postal service for the information to get back to Charlie.

"Hey," Sabrina heard a voice call out. She turned her head and noticed that one of the fire doors along the side of the building was open. The desk clerk that she had spoken with on her first visit to the hotel was glancing nervously around before calling out to her again, and beckoning her over.

Glancing around, to make sure that she wasn't being watched, Sabrina made her way over to the smartly dressed young man.

"I saw the way that the General spoke to you," he leapt straight into his explanation, "I can't be away from the desk for long, but if you want to leave anything with me; I'll make sure that it gets to your friends."

Sabrina looked at the young man in disbelief. "You'd do that?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Why not. If nothing else it's one over on the General. Guy's a royal pain in the ass. Preens around the place as though he owns it. Takes the lion's share of any tips that we get – hah, if I can get one over on him, even if he doesn't know it, it's worth it."

Sabrina reached for the envelope again. She held it in both hands and looked at it for a few moments before making her decision and handing it over.

The desk clerk picked up on her hesitation. "Don't worry," he told her with a smile. "I have no interest in what it contains."

Sabrina finally reached a decision and pushed the letter into the man's hands. "Thank you," she told him honestly.

After holding her gaze for a few moments, he gave a curt nod of his head and she shot him a grateful smile.

"This really is important," she pressed home the point. "The moment anyone from that suite get back, the very moment that they get back... they have to see this."

"Don't worry; I'll make sure that they get this."

She thanked him again before turning away and heading off down the street, not noticing Branning, who ducked back into the doorway of another building as she passed him, his eyes firmly fixed on the envelope that the desk clerk was now holding.

* * *

"Over here."

The desk clerk froze as he heard the unmistakeable tones of the concierge. He tried to push the envelope he was holding onto one of the narrow shelves beneath the main reception desk, but he knew deep down that the attempt was futile.

"Here," the concierge ordered, pointing down at the spot directly in front of him. He paused before adding. "And bring that damned envelope with you."

Reluctantly, the desk clerk did as he was told. He switched his mind off to the ranting of the older man and just waited for him to snatch the letter out of his hands.

"Just what the hell did you think you were doing?" the concierge yelled at the young man. "Did you really think that I was so naive that I wouldn't notice the way that you dashed away from your post the moment that you thought my back was turned! People like that 'woman' do not belong in places like this..." he petered out as he realised that the desk clerk's eyes were beginning to glaze over. The man wasn't paying full attention to him. Fine; then he'd find out the painful, financial way that rules were there to be followed, not broken. He waved his hand, dismissing the young man, but not before snatching the buff coloured envelope from his hand.

He looked down with distain at the item in his hands, as though in some way it might soil the pristine white gloves that he was wearing.

One of the problems of no longer having a uniformed presence on the steps was that people could just walk in off the street – people who had no business setting foot in the place. There was no longer anyone there to police the people who could gain entry. He'd watched her retreating figure through the tall panes of glass that fronted the hotel lobby. If he hadn't stopped her, what was to say that she wouldn't have found her way through to one of the guest rooms and helped herself to whatever she fancied! The embarrassment would have been too much for the hotel to bear.

Satisfied that he'd closed the issue, he brushed at an invisible spec of dirt on his jacket and headed straight for the cleaner who was emerging noisily from one of the main elevators.

"The rear elevator," he told the woman loudly; blindly refusing to take notice of the fact that she didn't understand a word that he said. "The rear elevator. Just how many times do I need to tell you?"

He lifted the yellow lid of her trash cart and tossed the envelope inside, before ushering the protesting woman away from the clientele and towards the back of house where she belonged.

Life, he reminded himself as he ushered her along in front of him, would be so much easier if it wasn't full of a certain kind of person.

* * *

Sabrina pushed open the main door to the apartment block, and slipped inside into the damp smelling hallway. She made her way towards the main staircase, trying to ignore the ever-increasing smell of stale urine that reached her nostrils. She made her way up the stairs wearily; her mind numb, unable to process more than the simple fact that she needed to rest. She dragged her feet on the wooden staircase, placing one foot in front of the next, working purely on autopilot. It was over. Everything was finally over. There was nothing left for her to do. She'd mailed one letter to Jill, and left the other at the hotel. All her affairs were now in order. It was just a matter of time.

She slipped her key into the lock, and opened the door; stepping over the threshold and heading directly for the cupboard in the far corner of the small room. There was a bottle of cheap red wine in there that she'd managed to save up enough money for. Before she crawled beneath the covers on her bed she was going to make a sizable dent in that bottle.

The small window let in very little natural light but she didn't bother trying the light switch. For the past two days the power had failed. The landlord told her that there was nothing wrong with the supply, but Sabrina was certain that the wiring in the building was not up to code, and that, if anything, she was safer just relying on the weak yellow light that seeped in from the streetlight just outside her window.

She was halfway across the room when her eyes finally adjusted to the low levels, and she made out the dark shape sitting on the end of her bed.

She jumped in shock, and immediately spun round, intending to make a rush for the door. As she turned she caught sight of Grainger blocking the doorway. She was trapped.

"Mr Rickard wants to see you," the man sitting on the bed told her. She turned to face him; her heart sinking as she recognised the deep tones of Lewis.

"He doesn't usually send an escort," she told him flatly, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice.

Moments later she heard the creak of the floorboards behind her, and then felt two hands roughly grabbing hold of her arms – pulling them tightly behind her back. She flinched at the touch, and the grip increased.

"Mr Rickard is very keen to see you," Lewis told her as he rose to his feet and slowly made his way towards her. "He was more than a little upset by the way that you ran out on him last night. It's something he's very keen to talk to you about."

Sabrina swallowed nervously, trying to hide her growing sense of unease. Lewis had always made it clear what he thought of her, and often told her in great detail exactly what he wanted to do to her. She'd promised herself that she'd never let the big gorilla intimidate her, but as she stood there in the dark of the small apartment, she felt very vulnerable indeed.

Lewis moved to stand in front of her, reaching out with his right hand and cupping her chin, lifting it up towards his face. "Mr Rickard's not best pleased with you," he told her softly. "You keep on disappointing him like this, and I may yet get to do everything that I promised you I'd do on the day that we met." He tightened his grip on her chin; smiling as he watched her eyes shut with pain. "You've not got your white knight to protect you now," he reminded her cruelly. "I could snuff out your life as easily as I snuffed out his if I chose to." He released his grip on her chin and ran his hand gently down the side of her face. "But I think that I want to have a little fun with you first." He nodded in the direction of Grainger who had her arms locked behind her in a vice like grip. "Maybe I could make a party of it ... invite a few friends."

He smiled at the expression on her face; the fear that showed in her eyes letting him know that he now had the upper hand. He let his hand drop away from her face and moved past her towards the door. "Mr Rickard hates to be kept waiting," he reminded her; holding the door open and watching impassively as his colleague dragged her from the room.


	27. Chapter 27

Rickard stopped the cassette deck and rewound the tape. Pressing down on the play button he listened again to the recording he'd made of his earlier phone conversation with Charles Townsend. He listened carefully to every word that the man had spoken; checking to see if there were any inconsistencies with the information that he was providing. The man had a strong voice, confident – but Rickard liked to think that he could sense a note of something else in there as well. He hadn't agreed too willingly to every demand; had been prepared to listen and to bargain.

Townsend's willingness to cut a deal told him that, whatever had happened the previous night, Thomas had not made it out with the help of Townsend's two employees. She might be out there on the streets, but she was out there on her own. That she'd had the strength to get out of the storeroom had surprised him. Despite Lewis' assurances that he'd done nothing more to harm the woman, Rickard had had his doubts. He'd assumed that Lewis would have taken the opportunity to take his frustrations out on Thomas. Still that mattered little now. He'd sent Lewis out on a retrieval mission – betting that sooner or later Thomas would return home. If Lewis did bring her in, then he had some questions that demanded answers before he'd proceed any further with the deal. His investigations so far had revealed a few surprising facts. He wanted to determine the validity of them before anything else was decided.

He'd also made sure that word had reached the officers at the local station. Those who had an understanding with him were aware of who to look out for and assurances had been made that everyone would be looked after. Weston and Gallagher were in a decidedly uncomfortable position at the present time, but Rickard was confident that things would be sorted out. Townsend had shown precious little interest in anything other than the safe return of Mary Thomas ... Rickard paused and mentally corrected himself. He had to stop thinking of her as Mary Thomas. When Lewis bought her in, there were more than a few things he wanted to clear up.

Rickard stopped the cassette recorder and rewound the tape once again.

* * *

Branning tapped his fingers impatiently on top of the phone as he stood in the small payphone kiosk. After what felt like an age the connection was made and he heard Gage's deep voice on the other end of the line.

"Well?"

The simple word was loaded with meaning, and Branning found himself running through all the things he was going to say; making sure that he wasn't about to miss anything out.

"Thomas paid a visit to The Belvedere Hotel. Looks as though she was trying to deliver a letter there."

"She was unsuccessful?"

"Concierge wasn't having any of it." Branning pulled the envelope from his pocket and tapped it against the glass panel of the kiosk. "I on the other hand was a little luckier."

"You have read the contents of the letter?"

"Uh huh," Branning confirmed. "And you're never going to believe what it says."

"Spare me the melodramatics," Gage snapped. "If it's that important then I want to see the contents for myself."

Branning ran his tongue across his teeth. "I really think you need to know what's in this letter," he pushed hesitantly. "It's not what you expect."

Gage sighed. "Do you have a problem with your hearing Mr Branning?"

"No sir."

"Then do as I ask and bring the letter here. Do you have anything else to tell me?"

Branning could hear the impatience in Gage's voice. "I didn't get to Thomas," he admitted.

"She got away from you?" Gage's tone had taken on an edge that Branning was wary of.

"She didn't know I was behind her," Branning tried to explain. "I didn't get to Thomas, but someone else did. I followed her back to a tenement block on the Lower East Side, but before I could do anything, she was hauled out of the building and bundled into the back of a car."

"Rickard?"

Branning nodded, and then remembered that he was on the phone. "I pretty certain it was Rickard's men. Thomas didn't look as though she wanted to go with them."

"That doesn't surprise me," Gage admitted quietly. "Bring me the letter. I want to see it for myself. "

"But Thomas..." Branning protested.

"...Forget Thomas," Gage replied. "I get the feeling that she's already burnt all her bridges with Rickard. He'll be the one taking care of the disposal."

Gage abruptly cut the connection and sat back in his chair. So far Mary Thomas had been as good as her word. Every message that had come back to him had been positive. His men were picking the street clean and Gage was certain that by the end of the day he'd have Rickard running scared.

* * *

Lewis opened the door to the bare room and pulled Sabrina in after him as though she were nothing more than a rag doll. He shoved her roughly in the direction of a chair that was placed on the far side of a small wooden table, before turning on his heel and heading back out of the room.

As the door slammed behind him, Sabrina sank down onto the chair, her head falling into her hands. She wondered why it was that Rickard wanted to see her. Was it possible that he had gotten wind of her visit to Gage? She shook her head and tried to convince herself that that wasn't the case. If he'd found that out then she'd be dead. There would be no dancing around the subject; no checking of the facts to see if the information was right. If Rickard knew anything about that then he'd make sure that she was taken somewhere well away from his property. He was probably just pissed about her getting away from him. Probably wanted nothing more than the chance to rub salt into the wounds, to taunt her with the death of her two friends.

She raised her head abruptly as the door opened again, and light flooded into the room from the corridor.

"Well, well, well," Rickard's voice filled the air around her. "What have we here? A little lost lamb has found her way home again."

The door was closed with a clang, immediately reducing the light levels in the room; the only remaining light emanating from a naked light bulb that hung from a wire above the table.

Sabrina sat up straight, and pushed her fingers through her hair. She heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind her, and did her best not to flinch as Rickard's hand swept gently around her shoulders. His hand lingered there for a few moments before he finally moved on and took up the seat that was placed on the opposite side of the table from her. She knew without turning her head that Lewis was still in the room – she guessed that he was propped up against the door; needlessly blocking her only possible escape route.

"I've done a little digging since my last little chat with you Ms Thomas," Rickard told her conversationally as he settled onto the chair. "Your 'friends' were very forthcoming with information," he paused and the corners of his mouth turned up into a gentle smile. "After a little gentle persuasion of course."

He watched with satisfaction as she tensed at his words, unwittingly providing him with the information that he'd been fishing for. She hadn't made contact with the other two since her escape; she had no reason to suspect that they were no longer with him. This gave him the upper-hand in the conversation.

"Oh yes," he told her smoothly. "Your two little friends were very forthcoming…" he glanced over her head towards Lewis. "…wouldn't you say so Lewis?"

He watched as her mouth formed into a hard straight line. She was obviously fighting to keep control of her emotions. He'd told her that he was going to have the two women killed; she obviously believed that he'd done just that.

"Since your Houdini like escape after our last meeting, I got to wondering why you were so concerned about these two women that you claimed not to know. They were good enough to fill me in with some of the details; in fact they couldn't wait to tell me all about you and how they'd been sent to find you. Now, I'm not by nature a trusting man so I had a few well-chosen words in a few well-placed ears, and discovered some very interesting facts. Imagine my surprise when it transpired that these two women were not the only ones who worked for Charles Townsend. He pulled one of Kelly's business cards from his suit pocket and placed it down on the table in front of Sabrina, tapping the card with the tips of his fingers.

"My informants in tell me that up until eighteen months ago, there was, in the city of Los Angeles, another young woman working for one Charles Townsend. A young woman who went by the name of Sabrina Duncan. An ex-police officer, turned private detective with a pretty impressive clear up rate." Rickard paused and took in the impassive expression on the face of the woman in front of him. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "Am I boring you?"

Sabrina's face remained emotionless. "I'm just wondering where you're going with this story. I've heard better."

Rickard allowed a smile to spread across his face. "Determined to play this out to the end are you?" Rickard sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "Now I had a photograph wired to me, and wouldn't you just know that you bear a striking resemblance to Sabrina Duncan."

Sabrina opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak, Rickard leant forward and slammed his hand down hard on the table, making her jump. "I don't like people who lie to me Ms Duncan. What I dislike even more are private detectives who come sniffing around, trying to find some way of scoring a bonus for themselves at my expense. I can't allow you to walk out of here. I hope you appreciate that."

Sabrina shook her head. "Don't jump to any hasty decisions Mr Rickard. You don't know why I'm here."

"You've spent the last eighteen months ingratiating yourself into my life and my business. Don't try and play me Ms Duncan. I know all the steps to this particular dance, and I'm telling you now. Your card is well and truly marked!"

Sabrina swallowed nervously, trying to find something to say that wouldn't result in Rickard just killing her where she sat. Before she had a chance to speak, the door to the room was pulled open, and Grainger appeared.

"We got trouble," he announced breathlessly.

Rickard was on his feet in seconds. "Get out," he yelled at his subordinate. "I left express instructions that no-one, but no-one was to disturb me whilst I was in here. What makes you think that you can ignore that decree?"

Grainger looked nervously around, not sure whether or not it was going to be safe to attempt to answer the question. "I'm sorry sir," he finally stammered. "But we've got trouble." He glanced across at Sabrina. "There's a break in the supply line. Morgan went to pick up as arranged and there was nothing there."

Rickard sighed. "Surely you can deal with a little domestic issue Grainger."

"There's more to it than that sir. Morgan's not the only one reporting a no show."

Rickard glared murderously at Grainger before pushing his chair away from the table and heading for the door.

"I'll be back to continue this in a little while Miss Duncan." He called back over his shoulder. "Lewis, make sure that our 'guest' is in no position to leave us this time."

Sabrina tensed at Rickard's words and turned towards him, but Lewis blocked her view of the departing man.

The tall man grinned at her and drew a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. He pushed one of the bracelets tight, until it snapped through and back open again. "You try and give me trouble, and I may just end up snapping your wrist," he warned as he moved to stand behind her; clamping one hand down on her shoulder, digging his fingers into her flesh as he reached forward and snapped the cold metal bracelet tight around her wrist.

There was little point in offering resistance. She knew from experience that Lewis was more than capable of killing her. He pulled her arm back and slipped the short length of chain around one of the slats of the back of the chair, before reaching out and grabbing her free wrist.

"I so hope Mr Rickard lets me take care of you," he whispered in her ear as he snapped the other cuff around her wrist. "There are some things that just shouldn't be rushed." She felt his breath on the back of her neck and then winced as he wrapped his hands around the cuffs and pushed them tighter; the metal biting into her wrists.

"Just sit there and think about me," he told her with a smile as he straightened up and headed out of the room.

Sabrina closed her eyes, feeling suddenly older than she'd ever felt before. A strange sense of calm settled around her shoulders. This was it; if she'd played her hand correctly then Gage's men would be the source of the emergency and this would be the end of Rickard as well. Her one consolation would be that his empire would be toppling, and he'd have no way of making it stop.

* * *

Harry Gage read through the letter again, trying to decide what to make of its contents. It was painfully honest – a comprehensive list of what had happened to the woman he'd known as Mary Thomas during the past eighteen months. It did nothing to shy away from her experiences, but it presented the details in a very matter of fact way; no looking for sympathy, no bitter complaints about the treatment, just a clear statement of what had happened. He reached the end of the letter and it was only there that the formal nature of the letter started to slip. It was then he realised why she'd looked so brittle when she'd paid her visit to his office. Rickard had killed two of her co-workers; women who - by all account – had no reason to be in the city in the first place. Things fell into place and he understood her reason to kick back against Rickard.

Her information had proved faultless so far. He'd sent people out to the places that she'd mentioned and they'd retrieved packets just as she'd promised.

He placed the letter down on the table and picked up the phone. "Branning? I've got another little job for you."


	28. Chapter 28

_**Thanks to those who have the patience to stay with this to the end. I appreciate your dogged determination. Apologies to all those who have lost the will to review; it wasn't meant to take this long.**_

* * *

Tiffany signed the bill with a flourish and shot a beaming smile at the clerk behind the desk. The woman had been very understanding about the sudden need to check out. Tiffany had prepared a story explaining the reasons for their sudden departure, but the woman hadn't asked any questions and had simply drawn up the bill and presented it to her. Tiffany was grateful for the level of discretion.

"Can you arrange a taxi for me and a little help in getting the bags outside?" she pulled a face. "My friends have rather left me to it."

"Not a problem ma'am," the woman assured her with an understanding smile. "We can see to all that for you. Will we be seeing you back in New York in the near future?"

Tiffany shook her head. "I get the feeling that work is going to be taking us away for a fair while."

"That's a shame ma'am. It's been a pleasure having you here."

Tiffany acknowledged the pleasantry and turned to take a seat. "Ma'am!" a male voice caught her attention. She turned to see a nervous looking young clerk who was now standing in front of her. He had a buff coloured envelope tightly clutched in one hand. "Sorry to bother you ma'am but I think that this is for you." He held out the envelope. "The lady that left it said that I should hand it to the people who were staying in suite 305."

Tiffany reached out for the envelope. "This lady," she asked gently. "Did she tell you her name?"

The young man shook his head. "No ma'am, but she'd been in here before; said that it was important that you saw this." He released his hold on the envelope, and Tiffany couldn't help but notice the way that his hand shook.

"Are you alright?" she enquired, keeping her voice low.

The young man looked confused and then pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. "I'm fine ma'am, just trying to keep this out of the radar range of the concierge. He didn't entirely approve of the lady who dropped the envelope here."

Tiffany glanced at the concierge out of the corner of her eye, and then shot the young desk clerk a knowing look. "I understand," she told him with a smile. "Thank you for this."

"Think nothing of it," the man backed away. "But please, don't say anything to the concierge."

* * *

Branning waited until the tall blond-haired woman was safely seated in the back of the taxi before he lowered the newspaper he was holding and made his way across the hotel lobby. He nodded in the direction of the young desk clerk. "You did well," he told him gruffly.

The young man looked down at his feet, obviously not happy with his own actions. "What have I just given her?"

Branning wagged a finger at the clerk. "You don't need to concern yourself with those sorts of details. Rest assured that she won't come to any harm; this is just a simple exchange of information." He nodded at the taxi that was now pulling away from the hotel entrance. "What's her name?"

The desk clerk looked at him with a slightly bewildered expression. "You ... you don't know who she is, but you wanted me to..."

Branning fixed him with a glare. "Her name," he prompted. "Just tell me her name."

"Tiffany... Tiffany Welles."

"And you're sure that she was staying in the same suite as Kris Munroe and Kelly Garrett?"

"Yes sir. The three of them arrived together last week."

Branning slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, bringing out a small wad of notes. "You did well," he told the man again as he handed the money over. " Now just keep this little affair to yourself, and everything will be fine."

The young man nodded nervously as he pocketed the money. "I won't say a word," he muttered quietly.

Branning waited for him to turn and go back to his position behind the desk before he made his way across the lobby and out into the now heavily falling snow. He wasn't entirely sure what Gage was up to, but he knew better than to question his boss.

* * *

Sabrina's heart pounded in her chest as the door to the small room was thrown open and Rickard stormed in, his face scarlet with rage and Sabrina automatically shied away, convinced that she was about to be on the end of a beating.

Lewis lurked uneasily behind his boss, and the uncertainty in the tall man's actions only served to convince Sabrina that this was the first time that Lewis had ever seen Rickard act this way.

Rickard paced back and forth across the small room, wringing his hands and trying to put his thoughts into some kind of order. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and for the first time since she'd met him, Sabrina realised that he wasn't in control of his temper.

Despite the fact that she was watching his every move, she still jumped when he turned and banged both fists down on the table. His eyes bored into hers, narrowing with undisguised hatred.

"Think you're so clever do you?" he spat into her face. "Think that you can stir the pot enough and damage my business?" His hands closed into tight fists as he maintained his piercing stare. "I should just throw you to the wolves and let them rip you limb from limb." His words came in low breathless tones as he struggled to regain some kind of control over his temper. "Or perhaps I should just hand you over to Lewis here and let him turn your life into some kind of unending hell. Trust me; he knows exactly how to gauge a person's pain tolerance limit. I imagine he'd take immense pleasure in discovering yours."

Sabrina heard the low chuckle from Lewis and fought to maintain her composure.

"What did you tell Gage?" Rickard smashed his closed fists down onto the table again, and Sabrina's attention immediately reverted back to him. "It has to have been you. Just what the hell have you been sticking your nose into?"

Sabrina tried to maintain eye contact with him, but found it hard to do so.

After a few moments Rickard pushed himself away from the table and resumed his pacing; circling the table now; brushing past Sabrina as he moved behind her

She forced herself to stare straight ahead; fixing her eyes on a spot on the wall directly in front of her, trying to block everything else out.

She didn't register the fact that Rickard had ceased his pacing. She had no idea that he was standing directly behind her until she felt his fingers wind themselves painfully into her hair. He jerked her head up and leaned in close so that his mouth was level with her ear.

"What made you think you could come in here and just take away everything that I've spent a life time building?" he spat. "Every doper out there knows where to come to get a good fix. Wouldn't want them to be out there, writhing pitifully in their beds because they can't get what their body needs; that wouldn't be neighbourly now, would it?"

"You sell death on the streets every day," Sabrina hissed, trying to ignore the pain in her head. "That by default makes even the poorest bum on the street the better person."

"So speaks someone who's never appreciated what it is to reach a real high." With his free hand, Rickard reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small foil wrapper. "You've never really lived until you've tried a little magic in your life." He draped his arm around her shoulder and rolled the small foil packet between his fingers. "I bet you've never experimented with this before, have you? I wonder if your view would change if you were to get more ... intimately acquainted with the product?"

He smiled inwardly as he watched the reaction of the woman in front of him. He felt her whole body stiffen with fear. He'd finally found her Achilles heel. He felt her struggle, and tightened the grip he had on her, bringing the foil packet closer to her face.

"I think perhaps a little trip is exactly what you need to take you out of yourself. A little something to alter your outlook on life. Then maybe I'll let Lewis have his fun and then we can officially terminate this relationship. Your boss is willing to pay a lot of money to get you back, but you know what? I think you've earned this."

He released his hold on her hair, pushing her head down towards the desk and strode towards the door. Lewis immediately straightened up.

"Little job for you," Rickard spoke loudly enough to ensure that Sabrina would hear him. "Our guest has been here for a little while now and we've not offered her any of the house special."

"Sir?"

"I believe a speedball would bring a little light into our guest's life."

* * *

Tiffany pushed the money into the hands of the cab driver as she climbed quickly from the vehicle, before turning and sprinting across the forecourt towards the motel room.

"Hey," the surprised driver called out after her. "You forgetting about your luggage?" He waited for a reply, but none was forthcoming as the woman sprinted away around the nearest corner. Shaking his head he looked down at the notes she'd pressed into his hands and let out a low whistle. There was enough there to make the unloading of the car seem like a reasonable thing to ask him; hell for the amount she'd given him, he was even willing to make sure that it made it into the lobby and not just dumped on the snow-covered ground next to the car. He wasn't one to pass judgement on his passengers – he liked to think that he was pretty open-minded about most things, but when she'd asked to come out to this particular address, he had felt obliged to ask her twice if she meant it. She'd seemed pre-occupied the whole of the journey; only looking up from the sheaf of papers she'd had clutched in her hands whenever the car slowed. She'd asked him on numerous occasions to go as quickly as he could. He couldn't make up his mind whether she was running from something, or running to it.

Shaking his head again, he placed the last of the bags in the check in area of the motel and climbed back inside his cab. There was something a little odd about the woman. He switched on the car radio; if there was anything on the news that indicated that the police were hunting for a tall blond-haired woman, he reckoned that there might be something of a reward payment in it for him. Money had fallen his way once already that day; what was to say that it wouldn't happen twice.

* * *

Tiffany pushed open the door to the motel room – taking in the surprised expressions on the faces of her friends.

"Sorry," she apologised to them breathlessly, realising that she might have inadvertently alarmed them. She held up the papers she was holding. "Sabrina isn't with Rickard," she told Kelly as her friend prised the top sheet from her hand. "She's lying low at the moment... wants to meet up with us."

"Where did you get this?" Kelly immediately demanded to know.

"Clerk at the hotel. Seems as though they were dropped off earlier today."

Kris was on her feet in a second. "What?" She jerked her finger in Kelly's direction. "Kel saw her being arrested. She mention how she got away from the law?"

Tiffany shook her head. "There's not much in here by the way of details, but she does say that she's got enough information to blow Rickard's empire wide open..."

Kelly scanned through the paper in her hand. The information, such as it was, was sparse. "I don't trust this," she admitted, casting her eyes over the typed page again.

"But there's information here," Tiffany countered. "I've looked through more of it, and I think it's on the level."

Kelly pulled a face as she accepted the remaining pages from Tiffany. She chose a page at random and scanned through it. This page was hand-written and the handwriting was unmistakably that of her friend. It listed some of the things that she'd been involved in during her time in the city.

"Why leave this for us?" she queried, passing the sheet to Kris, wanting her friend's verification as well. "The first time I bumped into Bri she was adamant that nothing was to be written down. She was paranoid about it. I just can't see her doing this and then just leaving it with some clerk at the hotel."

"But she did leave a message at the hotel for us before," Kris reminded her. "Maybe she thinks that the hotel is a secure location."

Kelly had to admit that Kris had a point, but she was still suspicious. "It doesn't quite add up for me," she protested. "There's nothing here about how she managed to get away from the two cops who arrested her. No mention in fact of the last meeting I had with her."

Kris placed a hand on her friend's arm. "You think this came via Rickard?"

Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "I don't want to think that Bri's given everything up, but I don't know how else to explain this." She held up the papers.

Tiffany decided that it was time to hand over the last piece of information that she'd been keeping back. "There's one final thing," she admitted. "There's a note here, asking for a meeting."

Kelly was immediately on the alert. "When?"

"An hour's time... at Penn Station." She handed the note over to Kelly. "If we don't make the meeting she states that she may not be able to arrange another one for days."

"It's typed. Why type this message?" she queried. "Why type it unless you're someone trying to bait a trap?"

"It's a very public place for a trap," Kris pointed out. "If it's not Bri, then it could be someone with information about her." She chewed her lip nervously. "I don't think we can afford to ignore this."

"She doesn't mention meeting up with me in the letter," Tiffany pointed out. "I can act as look out for you. If it is a trap, then I'll be in a position to get you out of there."

Kelly turned the typed note over and over. It was all a little too neat, a little too organised. Instinct told her that the note wasn't from Sabrina. She looked over at the material that Kris was skim reading. Whatever the provenance of the note asking for a meeting, the other paperwork definitely came from Sabrina. Whoever had access to them, had access to her. There was no way that Sabrina would give them up easily. She closed her eyes. Charlie had told them to sit back, to let him sort things out with Rickard, but Kelly wasn't certain that they could afford to wait. If Rickard knew who Bri really was, then she was going to be in a lot of trouble.

"You ok?"

Kelly turned her head and saw the concerned expression on Kris' face. She forced a smile onto her face. "I'm fine," she insisted. There was no point in worrying her friend unnecessarily. Tiffany would be there guarding their backs, she told herself. If there was any trouble, then she'd be on hand. They had to go, she knew that.

* * *

Rickard turned his head as the door opened and Lewis entered; a grey metal bowl in his right hand.

"Now Ms Duncan, as you've not experienced one of these before, I think it's only right that I tell you a little of what you can expect." He paused, waiting for Lewis to place the bowl down on the wooden table. He lifted the hypodermic from the bowl and brought it into Sabrina's eyeline. "This, my dear, is what's known as a speedball. It's a very particular mix of heroin and cocaine. Potentially lethal if not mixed with due care. It will enable you to experience first the euphoric high of cocaine, and then the full impact of the heroin as you come plummeting back down." He smiled as he took in the fear that was etched on the young woman's face. "It's going to be one hell of a trip," he told her with a wink. "One that you're never going to forget."

"You don't have to do this," she forced the words out.

Straightening up, Rickard motioned for Lewis to move into position. "Oh but I do," he told her forcing a note of regret into his voice. "I think after all you've done, it's the very least that you deserve."

Lewis moved silently behind the chair and fished the small key from his jeans pocket. Kneeling down, he unlocked the right handcuff, quickly closing it again around the right rear leg of the chair, before grabbing the now free arm and bringing it forward.

Rickard watched impassively as Sabrina struggled against the strong grip of Lewis. It was a futile gesture; there was no way that she could hope to overpower someone of his stature. He waited until Lewis had clamped her arm into place - one huge hand over her right wrist, the other tightly gripping her shoulder, preventing her from moving.

"I'll try to find the vein straight away," Rickard told her calmly, as he stepped up to the chair, ignoring the protests she now made. Placing the hypodermic between his teeth, he crouched down and ripped a hole in the sleeve of the blouse Sabrina was wearing. He gently rubbed his fingers over the crook of her arm, looking for a suitable vein. Satisfied that he'd found the one he wanted, he smiled at her again.

"Just try and relax and go with it," he advised, taking in the look of pure fear on her face. "Once you've done this; nothing will ever be quite the same again."


	29. Chapter 29

**_Sorry for taking so long._**

* * *

"So where is she?" Kris looked at her watch again as she paced impatiently back and forth in front of the left luggage lockers. Sabrina's note had been specific about a meeting time... that time had long since passed.

"Maybe she's stuck on a train." The excuse sounded lame to Kelly even as she spoke the words. She cast her eyes across the throng of people making their way through Penn Station, still holding onto a faint hope that she would see her friend's face out there in the crowd. She had to face the fact that Sabrina was not among them; Sabrina hadn't been a part of any of the groups of people they'd seen hurrying between platforms during the past hour. The unease that had been building in her mind since Tiffany had arrived at the motel with the request for a meet up was now all-consuming. Something had happened to her friend, of that she was now sure.

"She's not coming, is she?" Kris spoke the words that they were both thinking.

Kelly watched as the younger woman's shoulders dropped. This whole business had hit her friend harder than she'd realised. Tiffany had no ties to Sabrina; no real telling sense of loyalty at all, but Kris... Kris had known Sabrina on and off since they'd first met Jill at the academy. The three of them had worked together for two years, but she'd been the one denied a chance to sit down and talk with Sabrina during their stay in New York.

Kelly made her way over to her friend and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Let's go and get a drink," she suggested, wanting to get out of the crowded place as soon as she could.

Kris shrugged her shoulders reluctantly and the two women slowly wended their way towards the exit.

They were halfway there when Kris suddenly stopped short. "When we originally talked to Charlie he said that Bri had dead drops across the city where she'd leave information for him..." she paused and checked to see if Kelly was following her train of thought. "What if this was one of those locations! What if she left something here because she was unable to hang around? What if she assumed that we'd work that out?"

There was a brief pause while Kelly considered the matter.

"You get Tiffany and I'll call Charlie," she announced, reaching into her purse in search of change. She saw that Kris was about to protest. "I really think I ought to tell him what's been going on. As far as he's concerned, we're still sat at the motel waiting to hear from him. I don't imagine he's going to be too pleased to hear that we've gone against his advisement." She squeezed Kris' shoulder. "And who knows, you might be right about the dead drops. This is the quickest way I know of finding out."

Kris watched her friend as she dodged round the slow moving commuters. She'd sensed the unease in Kelly's body language back at the motel. Something about the situation was unsettling her; she just wished that Kelly would confide in her. She had her own misgivings, but didn't want to give them voice until she knew what was worrying Kelly. If they were to get through this, then they had to be able to trust each other 100%. That was what working as a team for Charlie had always been about; relying on each other and knowing that combined they were more than a match for anyone. That feeling had been lacking for the last few weeks, and Kris felt as though she'd give anything to get that closeness back again.

* * *

Rickard lifted his eyes from the paperwork on his desk as the door opened and Lewis entered. "What's going on?"

Lewis chewed the side of his mouth nervously; not wanting to bring the news to his boss.

"Come on man," Rickard barked. "Out with it."

"Johnson's dead... and Sweeney."

Rickard swore loudly and slammed his hand down hard on the desk. "Is there anywhere that Gage hasn't made his presence felt?"

Lewis rubbed a hand nervously across the stubble on his chin. "The calls have gone out, not getting a whole lot of replies at the moment." He paused, waiting to see if Rickard would say anything. "Perhaps they're just busy," he finally offered.

Rickard swept his right hand angrily to one side, pushing a stack of papers from his desk and sending them cascading to the floor.

"I want answers Lewis. I want answers, not sorry excuses." He tapped his fingers impatiently. "Just what the hell has that little bitch done? What the hell was she sticking her nose into for all these months?"

Lewis shrugged his shoulders. "I don't understand how she could have found anything out ..." he began to protest but Rickard cut him off.

"They could fill several sets of encyclopaedias with all the things that you don't understand! I want answers Lewis. I want to know exactly what the bitch told Gage."

Lewis stared down at his feet, trying to keep his temper in check. "What about the other two? The ones that claim they're only here to find Thomas? Perhaps they know what's going on."

Rickard shook his head. "They are of precious little concern at the moment," he growled. "When business is back on something more of an even keel, then there will be plenty of time to deal with Miss Garratt and Miss Munroe. It's Mary ..." He stopped and corrected himself. "...Sabrina Duncan I want answers from."

Rickard pushed his chair away from the table and rose to his feet. "I want to know what state our guest is in. She and I need to have a little chat."

* * *

Kris shifted her weight from one foot to the other in a vain attempt to force some feeling back into her frozen feet. She was feeling decidedly conspicuous standing at the end of a row of left luggage lockers, but there was precious little else for her to do whilst she waited for Kelly to come back from making her call to Charlie. Tiffany had come to join her a few moments earlier. It had seemed pointless to keep her watching the area from a distance. If anyone had been there to threaten them, then she was certain that they would have made their move already. She'd voiced some of her fears to her colleague, but there was little Tiffany could do to ease the problem. They were out on their depth on this case. Sabrina had tried to warn them, but they hadn't listened.

Kris raised her hand in greeting as she spotted Kelly making her way towards them.

"What's the news?"

"There's nothing here," Kelly said quietly as she reached her friend's side, fighting to keep down her anger. "Charlie admitted that Bri had several dead drops in the city, but this wasn't one of them." She slapped her hand impatiently against the side of her leg. "This is nothing more than a wild goose chase."

Kris' head dipped. "What did he have to say about us not calling in with information about the meeting?"

Kelly winced. "He's not happy. But he also admitted that he's not heard anything back from Rickard. The whole situation has gone very quiet."

"I don't like it," Tiffany admitted. "You think that you guys disappearing like that has made Rickard nervous?"

"It's possible," Kelly conceded reluctantly. She turned and cast her eyes across the concourse. "Where the hell is she? If she'd only levelled with us from the start then we could have avoided all of this"

Kelly's voice rose to an angry shout at the end, and earned her a few glances from the passing commuters.

"She's just been trying to protect you," Tiffany spoke up, knowing that her friend's anger was sparked by a sense of fear.

Kelly swung to face her. "And what makes you her champion all of a sudden? If I recall, you were the one who told me that we should leave her alone. If we'd all listened to you we'd be back in L.A right now."

"Rather than fighting amongst yourselves and wasting valuable time, I suggest that you direct your actions towards something more constructive."

The three women spun to face the man who had just spoken. He was dressed smartly in a suit and was leant up against the lockers, watching them with undisguised amusement. He took in the expressions of surprise on their faces. They'd been so busily engaged in their own worries, that they'd not noticed his approach. He nodded in their direction. "I hope you'll forgive me the subterfuge and misdirection. I'm the one who left the note for you at the hotel," he explained. "After the effort I've gone to to get you here, I hope you'll do me the courtesy of listening to what I have to say."

Kelly eyed the man suspiciously. "Who are you?"

"It's not important. What is important is the reason that I asked you to meet me here." He glanced up at the time that was displayed above the departure boards. "I apologise for keeping you waiting; I just wanted to try and meet the three of you together." He smiled at Tiffany. "You have proved to be quite the elusive one."

"Sorry to have put you to so much effort," she retorted; aware of how weak the comeback was.

"Did Rickard send you?" Kelly pushed her way back into the conversation, not prepared to allow the man to dictate the situation.

She watched the way that he bristled. "Nobody sent me," he told her curtly. "In fact it has been a long time since anyone **sent** me anywhere."

Kris held up a hand. 'Excuse me. Just why are you here? We really don't have time to be chasing around the city like this."

"Where's Sabrina?" the demand for an answer was out of Kelly's mouth before she could stop herself. She mentally remonstrated with herself for making such a slip after the warnings that Sabrina had given her.

Gage smiled at her obvious annoyance with herself. "Don't worry," he told her coolly. "I'm now aware of your friend's true identity... it's actually one of the reasons that I arranged this meeting."

Kris frowned. "You know her?"

"In a manner of speaking. She has been nothing but a source of irritation to me for the past year or so." He waved the comment away. "That's not the reason for me asking you here though. I'm very much afraid that your friend is in a great deal of trouble."

Kelly straightened up. "What sort of trouble?"

Gage pulled a buff coloured envelope from his pocket and passed it to Tiffany. "This is the real letter that she left at the hotel; I'm afraid that I intercepted it." He smiled at her. "I added a little detail of my own and removed some other ... shall we say less than complimentary details pertaining to myself."

Tiffany cautiously accepted the offered envelope, noting the fact that the seal had been broken. "What's missing?"

"It's what's there that I think you should be interested in."

Frustrated at Gage's reluctance to talk, Tiffany skimmed through the information, letting out an exclamation as she read Sabrina's explanation for what she was about to do.

Kelly grabbed the sheet of paper from her friend, and ran her eyes over it; her eyes coming to rest on the same passage that had stunned Tiffany.

She raised her head to stare at the man in front of her and slowly shook her head. "This is fiction, pure and simple. There's no way that she'd do something like this."

It was Gage's turn to smile. "You'd be surprised what grief and desperation can make people do." He looked in turn at the three women in front of him. "You know it's quite a surprise to find all three of you here." He nodded in Kris and Kelly's direction. "From what I'd been led to believe, the two of you were no longer with us." He watched the looks that passed between them. "Oh yes," he assured them. "I know who you are, and your friend was certain that Rickard had had you killed."

Kelly wasn't willing to believe the words that were written in her friend's neat, precise handwriting. She tried to ignore the voice that was telling her that the sheet of paper she held in her hand was more reliable than the close-typed sheet that Tiffany had shown her back at the motel. Reality was knocking at the door, but Kelly didn't want to let it in. To acknowledge it, was to accept that Sabrina had done a deal with the devil; had sold Rickard out, and acted in a purely selfish manner, seeking revenge rather than justice.

Gage read the expression on her face and understood her conflicting emotions.

"I almost wish I still lived in a world where wrongs were righted, and the heroes all wore white hats and never failed." He raised a hand and indicated that Kelly shouldn't interrupt. "You've got to realise that people like Rickard are not subject to the same rules as you and I. If Rickard were to be arrested he'd never face a jury, never go to prison, never serve a single day behind bars. There is only one way to rid the streets of a man like him. Your friend came to the same conclusion and acted accordingly. That is a truth that you are going to have to face and accept."

"But selling Rickard out to a competitor..." Kelly struggled to come to terms with what the letter told her. She read down the page a little further, explaining the contents to Kris and Tiffany. "She can't even trust the man this claims she's going to see. She thinks that this man Gage is going to kill her?" Realisation dawned in that instant and she narrowed her eyes. "You're him, aren't you? You're Gage?"

Gage raised his hands. "I can assure you that I have nothing to do with your friend's disappearance."

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "You've got to understand that I now find that a little hard to believe." She held up Sabrina's note. "You are him, aren't you? She came to you, didn't she? What did you do to her?"

"We are not here to discuss me..."

"Mister, I think we are. She states here that she was coming to see you, and didn't expect to live past ..."

"... Would I be showing you this here, now if I had done anything to harm your friend?" There was an edge to Gage's voice as his patience began to fray. "If you value your friend's life then you'll listen to me, rather than waste time with these pointless questions."

"So just why are you here?" Tiffany pushed the question. "I'm sure you didn't come down here to simply exchange pleasantries with us."

Gage looked at her levelly. "I'm here because I owe Mary Thomas…" he tailed off and corrected himself. "I'm sorry Sabrina ... We had a deal and I feel as though I owe her a little payment. From what I understand, she is presently not in a position to receive that payment."

"You know where she is?" Kelly asked urgently, trying to push aside her own unease at dealing with the man.

"I have a few ideas. None of them good."

Kelly's hand automatically reached for her purse, but she drew up short; remembering that her gun was now in the hands of Rickard.

Gage looked at the three of them. "If your friend is lucky then Rickard's going to have her killed. If she's not …" he tailed off.

"Look Mister, if you know something then tell us," Kelly was fast running out of patience.

"Rickard has a place down on Stanton." Gage saw the looks that passed between the three women. "I take it you know it?"

Kris nodded curtly.

"That's my best guess as to where he would take her. If Rickard knows what she's done then she's in a lot of trouble." He looked steadily at Kelly. "Don't judge your friend too harshly. I'll warrant that she's seen things in the last year or so that have changed her somewhat. In the same situation, can you really be so certain that you wouldn't falter?"

Without waiting for a response, he nodded politely to them and turned on his heel.

Kelly watched mutely as Gage stepped out across the concourse towards the exit. A part of her wanted to call him back, or to chase after him and demand answers, but she knew that any attempt would be futile. She knew that he'd told them all he was prepared to, and hounding him further would only cost them precious time. She pushed her own feelings to one side; she would deal with them later. Now, now they had to formulate a plan, and get Sabrina away from Rickard.

"We can't go in there without back up," Tiffany's voice broke across her thoughts. "If Rickard's thugs are there in number, we'll just be sacrificing our own lives."

"We can't trust the police," Kris reminded her. "We don't know just how far his influence spreads."

"I know one officer I can rely on," Tiffany told her. "Jarrett will know who he can trust. I'll go and see him; get him to meet you there."

Kelly forced herself to listen to the plans that the others were making. "You really think that he'll listen to you?" she questioned. "If that man ... Gage ... is right, then Bri is running out of time. We need to move now."

Tiffany nodded decisively. "He'll listen to me. I just need to talk to him."

"OK," Kelly agreed, not quite believing that she was about to suggest that they go ahead with a plan to rescue Sabrina from Rickard's stronghold on Stanton. "I've got to tell Charlie what's going on. He'll tell us that we have to wait..." She looked at the others, trying to gauge their mood.

"I'm not waiting," Kris told her firmly.

"Neither am I." Tiffany placed a hand on Kelly's arm. "We're with you on this ... all the way."

* * *

Sabrina closed her eyes tightly, wishing herself back into oblivion. Every muscle in her body ached and her head pounded with a relentless fury. She tried pressing her hands to the side of her head in a futile attempt to contain the pain, but it had little effect. She tried to think past the pounding in her head and focus on what was going on. Her mind felt as though it was filled with cotton wool, her memory was vague, not able to fill in any relevant details about where she was or how she'd arrived there.

"Back in the land of the living, are we?" a low male voice grunted. Shortly after that she felt a booted foot nudging her in the small of her back.

The man's voice brought the memories flooding back into her brain with frightening speed. Every image and feeling lanced through her mind and she screwed her eyes tighter, trying to deny the events that her mind was replaying to her.

"Some trip huh!" the man's voice forced its way into her consciousness again and Sabrina pushed her hands harder against the side of her head, willing herself to wake up from the nightmare she was obviously experiencing.

The booted foot nudged her more firmly in the back. "Come on," Lewis snapped. "I don't have all day for you to decide that the time is right to join the rest of us."

Sabrina felt hands grabbing at the top of her arms and dragging her into a seated position. Her stomach complained violently at the sudden movement and she struggled to prevent herself from losing what little remained of her last meal. As abruptly as it had begun, the movement stopped, and she became dimly aware of cold brickwork at her back. Instinctively she tried to curl back up into a ball, but a hand grabbed her chin roughly, and forced her head up.

"Come on," Lewis growled.

She felt her head jerked from side to side and batted ineffectually at the hand that held her jaw in a vice like grip. The jerky motion only served to increase the pain in her head and she redoubled her efforts to make Lewis stop.

The message seemed to finally get through to him and he released his hold on her. She immediately buried her head in her hands, waiting for the pain to subside. After a minute or two she felt confident enough to try and open her eyes and face the situation. The room was bathed in light and she immediately closed her eyes as the light burned at her retina. Cautiously, she experimented again, raising a hand to block the direct light from reaching her eyes. She blinked rapidly and struggled to make sense from the blurry shapes that surrounded her.

A shadow fell across her field of vision and she raised her head, trying to work out who the figure standing in front of her was.

"What…" she tried to ask a question but her mouth was so dry that she found she was unable to form a word.

"You're not in a position to be asking questions," Lewis told her as he knelt down next to her, the tone of his voice making it clear that he found Sabrina's situation amusing.

A cough started at the back of Sabrina's throat. She tried to swallow and stop it from getting any worse but it wasn't to be so easily defeated.

"Oh for heaven's sake, have some water," the man drawled.

Sabrina felt a glass forced to her mouth. She gratefully took a sip as the glass was tipped towards her. The cool water soothed her throat and quelled the bitter taste in her mouth.

"That's enough," she heard him bark and the glass was snatched away from her, spilling a small amount of water upon the floor. Sabrina watched the glass hungrily as it was taken away.

"Feeling thirsty are we?" Lewis asked unkindly. Sabrina raised her head and concentrated on the figure who was once more standing in front of her. It was little more than a blurry outline. She closed her eyes and then opened them again, attempting to refocus. The shape swam into focus. Lewis was standing in front of her; the half-full glass of water offered towards her.

She tried to force her gaze away from the glass, to try and hide the very real need she had for a drink.

"You want some more of this?" the question was asked; the tone of the voice making it clear that an answer was required.

With his free hand, Lewis leant in and grabbed a handful of Sabrina's hair, forcing her to raise her head. He moved in closer, his breath now hot on her face.

"I asked you a question."

Sabrina met the man's gaze levelly, refusing to answer, trying to ignore the incessant pounding in her head.

"Come on now," Lewis encouraged her. "After your little time out, your system must be crying out for liquid." He tipped the glass slightly and a few drops fell onto the concrete floor. "All you have to do is ask for it."

Sabrina kept her eyes focussed on Lewis.

"You just have to say please," his voice taunted her.

"Come on Lewis," Grainger's voice to Sabrina's right called out. "Give her a break."

"Shut up Grainger," Lewis snapped back, his eyes never leaving Sabrina's. "All I'm doing is asking our **guest** if she wants a drink. It's nothing to the questions Rickard will be asking her in a little while."

Lewis smiled and tipped the glass a little more and a trickle of water fell onto the concrete.

"If you want me to stop, you only have to say so."

Sabrina swallowed, her throat painfully parched. She looked longingly at the water within the glass. There was nothing more she wanted at that precise moment in time. She tore her gaze away from the glass and returned it to Lewis, refusing to say anything, not willing to let the man win the battle of wills. She'd lost complete control of herself, now it was time to try and reclaim some of that control.

"Have it your way then," Lewis told her with a snarl and tipped the glass further; the water pouring faster onto the concrete until the glass was empty. "That was your only chance," he warned. "I won't offer it again."


	30. Chapter 30

**_Two chapters in a week ... what's going on!_**

* * *

Sabrina sat with her back up against the rough brick of the wall. She folded her arms tightly across her body in an attempt to stop shivering. Her stomach protested at the constant movement, but she could do nothing to stop the persistent shaking; her body telling her that she needed warmth, and needed it soon.

She had little concept of the passage of time. There were vague memories of Lewis, or Grainger lifting her up off the floor and bringing her into the small dark windowless room that she was now in, but she had no idea just how much time had passed since then. She wasn't even sure just how big the room was. Moving was not an option; her head was pounding, her body still crying out for rehydration. Her system had taken a pounding, and she didn't want to dwell on what the after effects might be.

She snapped her head to the left as she became aware of a scrabbling sound coming from somewhere in that direction. She immediately regretted the move; her stomach protested, and her head thumped with an even greater intensity. She raised her hands to her head as if in some way she could contain the pain. Another wave of nausea washed over her and she closed her eyes. If the noise turned out to be a rat, then the damned thing could go to hell as far as she was concerned. She had enough to worry about without the local vermin taking chunks out of her. The scrabbling noise continued, and Sabrina was finally able to work out that it wasn't a rat at all but someone fighting with a bolt on the other side of the door.

She swallowed nervously, her throat raw and dry. Suddenly being alone in the dark didn't seem like such a bad thing. She lowered her hands back to her side; all her attention now fixed on the dark space where the scrabbling noise had just ceased.

She screwed her eyes shut as light painfully flooded into her world and raised a hand to shield herself from the glare as light spilled in through the now open doorway.

"Get up."

Sabrina felt her heart sink as she recognised Lewis' voice; her worst fears realised. He'd enjoyed taunting her earlier, and she wasn't sure that she was ready to listen to any more from him.

"C'mon bitch," he sneered from his place in the doorway. "You gonna get to your feet, or are you gonna make me come in there and get you?"

Sabrina lowered her hand and immediately squinted as the light again burned her eyes. Lewis was silhouetted in the doorway; hands on hips, waiting for her to move.

She pushed her hands down upon the floor, but they refused to hold her weight; her head thumping along with every move that she made.

Lewis let out a bark of a laugh. "Not so clever now, are we?" He strode over to where she sat, nudging her in the side with his left foot. "I thought I told you to get up."

Sabrina winced as his boot dug into her ribs. She wanted nothing more than to shut him out altogether, but she knew that Lewis was unlikely to let up. She pressed her hands down on the floor again, and willed her body to respond.

She heard Lewis swear beneath his breath and then felt a hand wrap itself tightly around the top of her right arm. She cried out in protest as he proceeded to haul her roughly to her feet; her stomach protesting at the sudden movement, threatening to give up what little remained within.

Lewis ignored her protests and half-carried her towards the door. "God, you were less of a pain when you were fighting back," he grumbled as he forced her out of the room and down the corridor.

Lewis pulled open the wooden door at the end of the corridor and dragged her into a large open room that was flooded with light. Sabrina had just enough time to take in her surroundings before Lewis spun her round and pushed her roughly against the wall.

"Thank you," Rickard acknowledged, turning away from where he was standing at one of the tall windows. He motioned for Lewis to leave them.

"I think you and I need to have a little chat," he announced as he paced across the room and settled himself down onto one of the chairs. He gestured towards the other one. "Please; let's try and make this civilised."

Sabrina remained silent; simply raising an eyebrow at his choice of words, and rubbing the top of her arm where Lewis had been holding onto her.

"We have a few things to discuss, you and I," Rickard continued. "I suggest we do it now before I decide that it's not worth the effort and just turn you over to Lewis."

Sabrina cautiously pushed herself away from the wall, testing out her aching muscles. Rickard watched the tentative moves with barely concealed amusement.

Sabrina covered the short distance and lowered herself down onto the chair, wrapping her arms protectively around herself, eyeing Rickard suspiciously.

Moments later the door opened again and Lewis entered, carrying a tray that contained a pitcher of water and two glasses. He placed the tray down on the table wordlessly and then departed.

Rickard reached slowly forward and poured himself a glass; noting the way that Sabrina watched his every move. He placed the glass down on the table in front of her.

"You look as though you need this more than me," he remarked candidly. "Lewis told me that you declined to take him up on his earlier offer of a drink."

Sabrina said nothing, but her eyes remained fixed on Rickard. He smiled. "I can assure you that there's nothing in the water ... if that's what you're thinking." He poured a second glass and took a mouthful from it. "If I want to do anything to you, I don't need to resort to cheap deceptions." He took another mouthful. "In fact, I want you to be well aware of everything that's done to you. I don't want you to be in any doubt."

Sabrina leant forward and picked up the glass from the table with shaking fingers, taking a much needed sip of the contents. The cold water soothed the rawness in her throat and she quickly drained the glass.

Rickard watched her closely, a small smile on his face. He gestured towards the half-empty pitcher. "You want more?"

Sabrina shook her head, but didn't comment as Rickard ignored her and refilled her glass. She sat back in her chair. "I take it that you didn't just bring me here to gloat?"

The corners of Rickard's mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. "This isn't just about you," he told her calmly. "You may have been the catalyst, but now ... now you are of little importance."

"Really, so why are you here and not out there trying to save your business?" Sabrina wanted to know.

"Do you have any idea of what's happening out there?" he gestured towards the outside world. "Any real idea of the chaos you've caused? Whatever it is you told Gage... it's costing lives." He leant forward in his chair. "Do you even care about the lives that are being lost?"

Sabrina met his piercing gaze. "Are you trying to make me believe that **you** care about anyone but yourself?" she spat the words out. "Don't make me laugh. People aren't real to you. They are just a commodity – something to be bought and sold as it suits. Don't try and convince me that you care for them."

"People are dying out there. Gage's men are knocking on doors and killing anyone they find within – no questions asked." Rickard maintained his eye contact. "They are taking the information you have given them and they are killing people."

Sabrina tried not to let Rickard's words unsettle her. "You've made a career out of killing people," she told him flatly. "What's made you so suddenly squeamish? Is it that you just don't like it when the tables are turned?"

Rickard slammed his hand down hard on the table. "I have never conducted business in the way that Gage is presently working his way through the city. That is down to you and you alone."

"What about Helena Peterson? Her name mean anything to you?" Sabrina countered. "Can you even remember the names of anyone you've caused to be murdered? Don't try and paint me as the villain here, when you have based your whole business on bullying and intimidation, and selling to those who are too weak to say no."

Rickard shook his head. "The weak need to be led," he told her. "They need someone to show them the way, to give them purpose. They are stupid, leaderless sheep who need a guiding hand..."

"...And you selflessly stepped up to the plate?" There was sarcasm in Sabrina's voice. "Don't try and sell me on the fact that you acted with anyone else's best interests in mind."

"And what about you?" Rickard countered pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. "You speak of wanting to save lives, but how many people have died as a direct result of your presence here? You are not so innocent. Lisa Saker ... now her blood is very definitely on your hands. I wonder just how many others you are directly or indirectly responsible for? If we are looking to point the finger and apportion blame, I'd look at your own actions before trying to point the finger elsewhere." Rickard stepped a pace away. "You asked me why I was here and not out there. Well I'll tell you. There's only one way to ensure that no-one else thinks they can come in here and do what you've done. You will be the object lesson; the example that sends out the message clearly to the others." Rickard turned and looked down at Sabrina. "By the time I'm finished with you, you're going to wish that you'd died in Saker's place."

* * *

Tiffany glanced over her shoulder as she entered the station house, half-expecting someone to call out and stop her. She'd not been back into the building since lifting the files from Thornford's office. It was a risk going back in. She trusted Jarrett, but she had no idea just how far Rickard's influence spread within the precinct. There was always the chance that Jarrett was one of only a handful of officers that could be relied upon. She knew that she needed strength in numbers if she was going to ask them to take on Rickard.

She pushed open the door into the main squad room and then threaded her way through the bustling crowd of people, heading towards Jarrett's desk.

His eyes widened in surprise as he saw her. He was quickly on his feet and indicating that she should follow him out of the squad room and into one of the smaller interview rooms that were spaced along an adjoining corridor. Tiffany wordlessly followed him; wondering just what was going on.

Jarrett pushed open one of the doors and ushered Tiffany inside.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" he demanded to know, looking around nervously as though expecting someone to come bursting in at any moment.

"What's the matter? What's been going on?"

Jarrett pushed a hand through his hair. "Only a few hours after you came in here asking all sorts of nosy questions about Rickard everything kicks off. Thornford's going around like a bear with a sore head. The man's paranoid; he won't take any calls unless he knows what the caller wants, a couple of the officers have been taken off shift without any replacements being called in." He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you really here? I mean I know what you said ... hell I believed what you said. I was all ready to offer you what help I could, and all the time..." Jarrett tailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"I know things have been a little..." Tiffany tried to explain but Jarrett cut her short.

"You don't know anything. If you did you wouldn't be in here. Look lady, I don't know what you're mixed up in, but if you came here to try and topple one dealer from his seat so that your boss could take his place, I'd say you were wasting your time." He pointed back out towards the squad room. "No sooner do the junkie deaths start easing when something else kicks off. Something major is going down in this part of the city. If someone was to ask me what I thought that was, I'd tell them that someone was systematically taking out one dealers' network. This isn't the usual spat ... this is organised... this smacks of someone with all the information about their rival at their fingertips."

In that moment everything fell into place ... the reason that Gage had contacted them; the real reason the man felt as though he owed Sabrina something. She let out a low whistle. It hadn't been an exaggeration. Sabrina had given everything she'd had on Rickard to Gage. She'd set the whole thing in motion.

"We can stop this," she told Jarrett urgently. "If I was to tell you that I knew where Rickard was right now, and that if you were to go there you could arrest him on kidnapping charges."

Jarrett shook his head. "Lady you got some serious fantasy going there. There's no way that Harrison Rickard would allow himself to get caught out like that."

"Not even when his empire has been ripped out from under him by a private investigator?" Tiffany looked levelly at Jarrett. "Rickard on a plate, yours for the taking. It's on offer. Limited time only."

Jarrett saw the determination in her face. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"The woman you know as Mary Thomas is really a private investigator from Los Angeles. Rickard is holding her at a place on Stanton Street. From what I understand, she doesn't have a whole lot of time."

Jarrett's expression changed. "You almost had me there for a second. Thomas... a detective?"

Tiffany let out an impatient sigh. "I'm telling you the truth. She works for a man called Charles Townsend." Tiffany pulled a card from her jacket pocket and dropped it down on the desk in front of Jarrett. "If you don't believe me, then call him direct." She plastered what she hoped was a pleading expression on her face. "Please Jarrett, I think Rickard's going to kill her if we don't get there first."

"Why come to me?"

"Because those officers you spoke of... I think they're the ones who lifted Mary Thomas off the street. They're also the ones who abducted my two colleagues." She saw that Jarrett was about to interrupt and hastily carried on. "The files that were in Thornford's office relate to people who've worked for Rickard, or who have been killed by people who work for the man. There are people in this precinct on Rickard's payroll. I trust you Jarrett. I need you to gather together anyone here you know you can trust and to come with me to Stanton... Please."

Jarrett looked at her, not knowing quite what to say.

* * *

"Your friends told me all about you," Rickard announced as he leant on the back of his chair. "Your boss even got on the phone – offering money for your safe return." He looked across at Sabrina. "And there was me all this time thinking that you had no-one in this life who gave a damn about you ..." He held up a hand. "Pardon me... no-one living that is. I was forgetting about dear departed Michael. Was he here like you, trying to pull the rug from under me?"

Sabrina refused to answer, and after a moment, Rickard waved the question away. "I don't suppose it really matters, not now. You managed to get him killed, and then you managed to get your friends killed ... and let's not forget little Lisa Saker. Little wet behind the ears, just out of high school Saker." Rickard paced away from the table. "No-hoper Saker who you helped to murder." He shook his head. "So much blood on one person's conscience... now that can't be easy to live with." He circled behind Sabrina's chair. "And now, here you are, adding more deaths to your tally."

Sabrina shook her head, refusing to rise to the bait, and wishing that she could get rid of the images of her friends that were now flashing before her eyes. Rickard's words cut into her thoughts.

"There's a story told in this neighbourhood about a bunch of women workers who jumped to their deaths from the 9th floor of a factory to escape a fire. External doors were locked, the one rusting fire escape not strong enough to hold their weight. They had no way out."

Sabrina looked at Rickard warily as he prowled around the room, unnerved by the sudden change of subject matter. She knew the story well; somewhere at the back of her mind there was the fleeting memory of a school project. She wondered just why Rickard was bringing the subject up.

"I've often wondered if they thought that they could survive the drop. They stood there faced with a fiery death on one hand or plummeting to the sidewalk below on the other. They stood there and in that one moment they made a decision about how they were going to end their lives. They had a choice; granted it wasn't much of a choice, but there was a conscious decision that they got to make." Rickard broke off and glanced in Sabrina's direction. "Not everyone gets that opportunity. Most never see their death coming; it strikes them and they're gone before they know it." He strode across the room and crouched down in front of her. "One day they're going about their business as normal and ... BAMM ..." he watched in satisfaction as she jumped at the sound of his voice. "That's it, they check out. No time for regrets, no time for what ifs. It's just over ... gone. But you... you... oh it's not like that for you, you get the chance to see it coming, to know that death is at your heels and yet at the same time not to know if the next trip will be your last."

He straightened back up. "I could take that uncertainty away. I could give you back that choice." He smiled at the confusion on her face. "Oh you're going to die... make no mistake about that. I'm just offering you the chance to decide whether that's in the next half an hour or the next few weeks." He tapped the breast pocket of his jacket. "I've enough here to send you on the best trip of your life. Strictly one way only, no stops." He smiled at her warmly. "And there's nothing to say you have to travel alone... I'm sure Lewis would be happy to accompany you."

Sabrina opened her mouth to speak, but Rickard pressed a finger to her lips. "There's only one thing I want to hear, only one piece of information. You tell me that and I'll make sure that it's quick. You don't tell me what I want to know and I walk out of this room and Lewis walks in..." he tapped his pocket with his free hand. "... and your little trip begins. You have the choice. Tell me what Gage knows. Tell me who you sold down the river, so that maybe, just maybe, I can save their lives. This is your choice; this is your only choice." He lifted his hand away from her mouth... waiting for an answer.

"Go to hell," she hissed, managing to keep her fear hidden from view.

Rickard shook his head and tutted quietly. "You disappoint me, I thought you were more intelligent," he told her as he slowly reached into his top pocket and removed the small metal case that contained the syringe. "Although I'm sure that Lewis is pleased. I think he's going to enjoy the next few hours."

Rickard turned his back on her and headed to the door – tapping on it twice in a pre-arranged signal. The key was turned in the lock and Lewis opened the door. Rickard placed the silver case in his hand. "Try not to kill her just yet," he remarked and exited the room without a backward glance.


	31. Chapter 31

**_As always thanks for your patience, and your reviews._**

* * *

Kelly stared down the rutted path that led to the small factory complex. If Gage's information was correct, then it was highly probable that Sabrina was somewhere inside the building. Even the gentle dusting of snow that covered the building did nothing to make it appear inviting. No lights were visible from where she stood, and she tried not to dwell on what might be taking place within its walls.

If she was honest with herself, she was still struggling to come to terms with what Sabrina had apparently done. If the information that Gage had given them was correct, then Sabrina had sold Rickard out to his biggest rival. Her actions would almost certainly put the skids under Rickard's business activities, but they were also likely to result in loss of life. Men like Rickard didn't take kindly to people meddling in their affairs. The city had already seen deaths in the past week because of the actions of Rickard and Gage. She tried to remind herself that her friend had been through a lot in recent weeks, and she remembered the anger she had felt when she feared that Sabrina was dead. But to act on that anger; to endanger other lives, as well as potentially throwing away her own... Kelly found it hard to reconcile the thoughts. Her friend was obviously closer to the edge then she'd realised. If they were to all get out of the situation then Sabrina was going to need a lot of help. It wouldn't be easy trying to step back to where she'd been before she'd accepted the case from Charlie.

She shook her head. No matter what her friend had done, she knew that she couldn't just stand at the end of the driveway and wait. Tiffany had no way of contacting her to let her know how the meeting at the station house was going; she just had to rely on her friend to convince Jarrett to act on the information that she provided.

She reached her hand into her jacket pocket and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the revolver that was nestled there. She'd promised Tiffany that she wouldn't use the gun unless the situation became desperate ... but, she reasoned, Tiffany wouldn't have left her with the gun, if she hadn't been well aware of what was likely to happen.

She turned her head and made eye contact with Kris who was shivering in the chill wind that was blowing through the derelict streets. "Are you up for this?" she asked gently.

Kris nodded nervously, trying to look positive. "Of course."

"There's no pressure," Kelly reminded her. "If you have any doubts, any doubts at all, then I'd rather you stayed here and waited for Tiffany."

"I'm not letting you go in there on your own," Kris told her firmly. "You need someone to watch your back... and I know as well as you do that we can't afford to just stand here and wait."

Kelly's smile was tight as she turned up the collar of her coat. "Let's do this."

* * *

Sabrina had risen to her feet the moment that Lewis entered the room; her chair clattering to the floor as she pushed back away from the table. She tried to ignore the screaming complaints from her muscles, as she looked around desperately for a way out ... there wasn't one.

Lewis covered the ground between them in a matter of seconds. Sabrina tried to back away, but Lewis simply grinned at her reaction. Pocketing the metal container and then cracking his knuckles he reached out for her. "You gonna play nice?"

Sabrina back-pedalled as fast as she could; her eyes darting around the room again; desperately looking for an exit that she might have missed. There were two doors; one internal, and one to the fire escape. To reach either of them she'd have to somehow get past Lewis.

He moved faster than she'd been expecting and she frantically slapped away the hand that reached out for her.

"Now that's not very friendly," Lewis warned reprovingly, as he reached forward again and grabbed hold of her wrist, twisting it savagely. Automatically, she brought her other hand up to try and pry Lewis' hand free, but he simply wrapped his other hand around that wrist and pushed her back until she slammed into the wall. "I don't know why you want to make this so hard on yourself," he chided her. "Things could be much better if you just learnt to loosen up a little."

Sabrina tried to shift away from the wall, but Lewis simply allowed her to move a fraction before slamming her back into place. "You know what, I really do think that you're well overdue another little lesson in what your life's going to become."

Lewis grinned and pulled Sabrina towards him, using his height and weight advantage to spin her around and push her face first against the wall. She cried out, but he ignored her protests, holding her in place with one hand whilst he reached into his jacket pocket for the hypodermic he'd placed there.

"Time for that little trip I promised," he whispered into her ear as he flicked off the cap that was covering the tip of the needle.

Sabrina tried to move, but it was a futile gesture. Keeping his weight pressed against her, Lewis placed the syringe between his teeth and tore a larger hole in the sleeve of her blouse.

He let the syringe drop into his open hand and ran the long edge of the needle up and down her arm.

"This trip will be better than the last," he promised her. "So much better. Will it be the last one? Or will it just be the first of many?"

"Get the hell off me," she hissed, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. She was pinned and knew that there was no-way of avoiding what was coming.

"I can't do that," he purred. "Mr Rickard was very clear on what he wanted you to experience." Lewis shifted position slightly, still keeping his weight pressed fully against her. "We can do this one of two ways. You keep trying to fight and I'm just as likely to miss the vein." He leant in, whispering into her ear. "You have any idea just how painful that is. It won't just hurt; it'll hurt like hell. And don't start thinking that at least it'll waste the shot." He grinned. "There's plenty more where this came from. Mr Rickard seems to think that you're worth the investment."

Sabrina kicked back desperately with her right foot and allowed herself a grim smile of satisfaction as she managed to catch Lewis smartly on his shin. He swore loudly and momentarily took a step back. Sabrina took advantage of the situation and pushed back with all her might, managing to move away from the wall, before spinning and knocking the syringe from his hand.

Lewis swore again as he watched the syringe fly from his grasp, and lashed out with his right hand.

Sabrina felt her world lurch to one side as Lewis' right hand connected with the side of her face. She shook her head and tried to clear her field of vision, but once again Lewis was faster than she was.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back up against the wall.

"Wrong move bitch," he warned her, releasing his grip on her and pulling back his hand for the next blow.

* * *

Kelly had only taken half-a-dozen steps along the rutted driveway when she became aware of a blue flashing light on the periphery of her vision. She turned her head; her look of unease turning to one of delight as she recognised Tiffany sitting in the back of the leading cruiser. There were four in the small procession, and they drew up along the edge of the sidewalk.

"I never doubted you for a second," Kelly said with a smile as Tiffany emerged from the car and made her way over to her friend's side. The smile turned to a frown when she caught the expression on Tiffany's face. "What's up?"

"This is all there is," Tiffany told Kelly glumly. "Jarrett didn't know who else he could trust." She grabbed hold of Kelly's hand. "We have got to be on the money with this one. If we're not then these officers are going to be in a lot of trouble, and we'll have played our only ace."

Kelly looked levelly at her friend. "Charlie hasn't heard anything more from Rickard. I don't think he's looking to make the money now ... not if Bri's offered up his contacts on a plate to the opposition. In Rickard's position I'd be looking to stem the flow of loss. He's going to want to know what Bri knows. I don't think we have the time to worry about waiting for certainties. We go in there and we get Rickard."

Kris nodded her agreement. "We have the information that Sabrina left. There's going to be enough there and in the files that you lifted from the station to see Rickard do time."

Tiffany looked between her two friends and saw the determination on their faces. "Ok," she relented. "We do this. Just give the guys a couple of minutes to get themselves sorted out and then we'll move in." She grabbed hold of Kelly's hand. "I know you're worried about Sabrina. Promise me that whatever happens, you'll be careful and won't do anything reckless."

Kelly nodded, realising what Tiffany was getting at. "Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything to jeopardise Rickard's chances of going to prison for a very long time."

* * *

Lewis massaged the back of his right hand and looked dispassionately down at Sabrina who was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. "You just had to do it, didn't you?" He opened and closed his fist. "You see what you've done to my hand. That's going to bruise if I'm not careful!"

He reached down and picked up the syringe from where it had been knocked to the floor. "Now – you going to let me get back to what I came in here to do?"

Sabrina didn't respond, she was now curled up in a ball on the floor, trying to protect herself in case Lewis lashed out at her again. She'd given it her best shot, but Lewis had easily over-powered her. Her head swam and she fought to remain conscious. She was only dimly aware of her surroundings. There was a dull rumbling from somewhere nearby – she assumed that it was Lewis. A part of her wished that he'd stop talking and just get on with it.

She felt a cold hand clamp around her right arm and pull it straight. The hand let go and was immediately replaced by a heavy weight. Through the fog in her mind Sabrina realised that Lewis now had his knee on her wrist.

His hand pressed against the crook of her arm as he searched for a vein. He swore and then pushed his fingers deeper into her skin, trying to raise a vein. She attempted to struggle, but Lewis was again quicker than she was. She felt the sharp sting of the needle as it entered her arm.

* * *

Kelly heard the soft crunch of snow beneath her feet as she made her way down the rutted driveway towards the buildings in front of her. She clenched her hands into fists in an attempt to get feeling back into them, before drawing the revolver from her pocket. Kris and Tiffany were at her side, and the handful of uniformed officers had fanned out to cover the other exits from the building. They were going to make their move into the building at a pre-arranged time. She glanced at Kris as her friend checked the time on her watch. She knew that her heart would be thumping with nervous anticipation in much the same way that her own was. This was it; finally.

* * *

Sabrina felt her world lurch violently as Lewis pulled her to her feet and dragged her out of the room. She felt detached from her surroundings, her feet failing to find purchase on the ground as Lewis manhandled her down the corridor. She felt her head loll forward and forced herself to remain conscious – trying to concentrate on what Lewis was saying.

"Rickard likes me to stay here," he told her in a conversational tone as he pulled her along. "I don't care much for the place myself, but it's what the man wants."

He halted and turned the handle of the door in front of him. Kicking the door fully open with his foot, he hauled Sabrina in behind him.

"It's not much, but it's home." With a smile on his face he pushed her bodily across the sparsely furnished room. She cannoned into the side of the bed that was placed against the far wall, and collapsed to the floor.

Lewis followed her into the room, shrugging off his jacket and his shoulder holster. He slipped them both over the back of the chair and turned and regarded Sabrina, his lips curling into a half smile.

"You'll feel no pain soon," he told her conversationally. "That drug will take over your system and you'll feel nothing," he paused and regarded the fear that was etched on her face. "Nothing that is, if you only learnt how to relax and enjoy the experience."

He cursed as the atmosphere in the room was shattered by the incessant ringing of a phone. He paced across the room and lifted the receiver. He gruffly answered the call and then straightened up as he heard Rickard's voice on the other end of the line.

"No, she's still here," Lewis answered his bosses question with a smile. "Trust me, she won't be going anywhere for quite some time."

He caught a flicker of movement from his left, but ignored it as Rickard issued a new set of instructions. "Sure thing," he promised Rickard. "As soon as I'm done here, I'll pack up and bring everything with me..." He paused. "What do you want me to do with Thomas? You want me to bring her or dispose of her?"

He listened to the answer and nodded his understanding. "No problem Mr Rickard, consider it done." Replacing the receiver back in its cradle, he turned to check on Sabrina, surprised to see that she was no longer slumped in a heap on the floor. He turned his head further and realised that she had been the movement that he'd seen. He was surprised that she'd had the energy to move – from the way that she'd reacted so sluggishly to his attempts to move her, he thought that he'd done more damage than he'd intended.

He took in her stance and the gun that was now pointed in his direction. "Is that supposed to scare me?" he asked her, a note of humour in his voice.

Sabrina felt her hands begin to shake as the drug started to take effect. Over the roaring in her ears she heard Lewis laugh. It had taken all her composure to push herself to her feet, take the half-dozen steps across the room and coax her fumbling fingers into pulling the revolver from its holster. She now felt her grip on the situation crumbling.

"Put it down," Lewis told her with a sneer. "You're not going to use that. Put it down now, or by God, I'll make you put it down."

Sabrina fought to control her breathing as she felt her heart-rate increase. Fear had got the better of her last time, and she was determined not to let it win again. Her palms were slick with perspiration, and she had to bring her left hand up to join the right to prevent the gun falling from her grasp.

She tried to keep the barrel levelled at Lewis but her hands were shaking so badly that she had a struggle to keep it pointing in the right direction.

Lewis' low laugh reached her ears and she realised how little he regarded her as a threat.

"Shut up," she forced the words out as the shaking in her limbs seemed to increase.

"What was that?" Lewis cupped a hand to his ear as he watched her struggle. "Just how long do you think you're going to remain in control?" he asked her casually. "Your system's not used to handling what I've just given you. Your heart-rate is going to increase so much you'll think your heart's going to explode." He tilted his head and watched her try to pull back the hammer on the revolver. "You shouldn't fight it," he advised her. "Go with it; it should be a euphoric experience, not the terror that you seem intent on turning it into."

"Shut up, and get away from me." The weapon now felt like a lead weight in her hands, but she was determined not to let it go.

"You can feel it can't you?" he taunted her. "Your heart must be beating like a jackhammer. Go with it; trust me, it's going to make the whole experience better for you." He took a pace towards her; one hand reaching for the buckle on his belt.

"Keep away,"

"After I went to so much trouble?" he smiled at her. "Oh no, trust me. This is just the beginning."


	32. Chapter 32

Kris glanced nervously at her watch, noting with growing impatience the way that the second hand seemed to take forever to complete its path around the face of the timepiece.

She took a deep breath and let it out evenly, trying to calm the way that her heart was now rapidly beating. At the end of the day what they were about to do came down to timing. If they were to get it wrong, then someone could end up paying with their life.

She thought briefly back to the offer that Bosley had made to her when Jill had announced her intention to take up a career on the racetrack. He had made it sound all so exciting – Jill had too. The one thing neither of them had mentioned was that one day it might come down to something like this; that it might come down to a single event where the life of a friend would be held in the balance. She took another deep breath... only one more minute to wait.

* * *

Sabrina was drowning; lost in an all enveloping fog that threatened to overwhelm her completely. On the edge of her mind there was something nagging at her consciousness; something hard-edged that told her that she couldn't let go; couldn't give in to the fog; couldn't let it consume her just yet. She tried to force her mind to tell her what it was that was so important, but there was nothing. She felt consciousness begin to slip away and began to question just why she was fighting it so hard.

Her arms felt impossibly heavy and as the effort to hold them up became too much to bear, she slowly began to lower them.

There was a flash of clarity; a searing clear image of reality that forced its way into her mind. She screwed her eyes tight and tried to hold onto it ... but she knew it was a battle she wouldn't be able to win. She had maybe one last chance to change the current course of events.

* * *

Lewis watched the obvious distress on the face of the woman in front of him and took another step across the room, pausing as he heard a noise from outside in the hallway.

"Grainger?" he yelled out, keeping his attention firmly focused on Sabrina, whose hands were now beginning to shake violently; the gun in her hands beginning to veer away from its original target and down towards the floor. He grinned with expectation. "Grainger. That you out there?"

When there was no reply, Lewis swore beneath his breath. Torn between dealing with Sabrina and checking to make sure that it was Grainger, he half-turned towards the door, caught in a moment of indecision.

* * *

Kelly pushed open the door and immediately scanned the hallway, the arc of her arm taking the barrel of the revolver across all possible targets. She let out her breath as her quick search revealed that there was no-one present. She moved silently forward; alert to any possible movement ahead. She heard Kris follow her into the hallway; ahead was a flight of stairs leading up to the next floor. After checking that there was no-one waiting on the stairs, she moved silently forward; it was important to check the ground floor out completely before working their way up through the building. Not for the first time she wished that they had more back-up. The longer that the search took; the more likely it was that Rickard or one of his thugs would realise that they were in the building, and the element of surprise would be lost.

* * *

A single shot shattered the silence that had hung in the air; echoing through the building; the sound reverberating off the bare walls before finally dying away, leaving only an eerie silence in its place.

* * *

Kelly froze at the bottom of the stairs as the sound of the gunshot echoed in the air around her. She immediately sought out Kris, wanting her friend to - in some way - provide a measure of reassurance for her.

Without saying anything, the two of them broke into a run, sprinting up the stairs in the direction that the shot had come from, deaf to the calls from Tiffany and the uniformed officers who were following to stay where they were.

"I'm going with them," Tiffany called back over her shoulder as she watched them turn the bend in the stairs. Jarrett reached out to stop her, but she shrugged away from his grasp. "I have to," she apologised to Jarrett before following her friends.

* * *

Kelly's boots rang out sharply on the wooden floor as she sprinted down the corridor. She cast her eyes from one side to the other, trying to work out exactly where the shot had come from. Fear gripped her, and she tried to ignore the voice in her head that was telling her that they were too late; that no amount of running would save the life of her friend. She pushed on, forcing her legs to keep moving. She had to find out what had happened, one way or the other. She knew that Kris was a pace behind her, and took comfort in the fact that she had back up she could rely on.

The door up ahead on the right was slightly ajar. It was the only thing that differentiated it from the others, and it was enough to attract her attention. She skidded to a halt and raised the revolver in readiness. She kicked out with her foot, and the door flew open, bouncing back as it struck the wall. Holding the gun out in front of her she made her way into the room; time seeming to slow as she tried to take in the scene before her.

Sabrina was standing in front of her, a handgun held loosely in her right hand. She was shaking from head to foot; her face a mess of open cuts and bruises. A sheen of perspiration was clear on her face; her eyes wide. As she watched, the handgun slipped from her friend's grip and fell to the floor... the sound breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen upon the room.

Kelly turned her head to see what had mesmerised her friend and she immediately took in Lewis' still form. From the way that his body was unnaturally angled, she was fairly certain that he was dead. She watched numbly as Tiffany brushed past her and made her way to the man's side, checking for a pulse. The barely perceptible shake of the head was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. The sound of Sabrina's shallow rapid breathing pulled her attention back to her friend, who had collapsed next to the bed, the handgun lying on the floor where it had fallen. She broke out of her trance and moved swiftly to Sabrina's side and knelt down next to her.

"Bri, come on Bri stay with me."

She watched as her friend's dilated pupils tried and failed to focus.

She reached forward to check Bri's pulse. Her heart-rate was impossibly fast. There was very little reaction from her friend. It was as though she was only dimly aware of her presence.

She turned her head and yelled for someone to call for an ambulance.

All around her own personal bubble of silence, the building erupted into a hive of activity.

* * *

Several hours later Kelly was sat on the hard plastic chair in the waiting area, watching blindly as people bustled around in front of her. The Doctor had told them that Sabrina wasn't allowed visitors that night, and that they should wait until morning, but Kelly had found that she was unable to settle to anything.

Leaving a message at the motel for Kris, she had walked around for an hour or so, before finding herself on the road to the hospital. She hadn't consciously decided to take that route, but as soon as she realised that she was on it; she knew that there was only ever going to be one destination. Even if they wouldn't let her in; she wanted to be close to her friend – to be there in case she did wake up. She flagged down a taxi and quietly requested that the driver take her the rest of the way.

She picked at the Styrofoam cup that she held in her hands; watching as fragments of it fell to the floor. It was a mess; the whole situation was a stupid mess, and there wasn't one thing she could do about it. She wished that she could turn back the clock a few days – play the situation out another way. She closed her eyes and immediately an unwanted image of Sabrina as she'd looked when they'd found her sprang up. She shook her head, trying to clear the image of her battered and bloodied friend.

"Are you going to drink your coffee, or just play with the cup?" a voice asked quietly.

Kelly snapped out of her thoughts and raised her head to see Kris standing in front of her.

"I got your message," she said needlessly. "I figured this is where you'd be." She gestured towards the far end of the corridor. "I've been down there for the past hour, staring at the payphone, wondering if I should ring Jill and tell her what's going on."

Kelly reached out, and took Kris' hand within her own.

"I'm glad you're here," she admitted.

Kris took the seat next to Kelly, not letting go of her friend's hand. "I turned out the light and just lay there in the dark in the motel. I couldn't even close my eyes. I just knew that I couldn't stay there." She shuddered. "I just couldn't get the image of that room out of my head."

"Did you ring Jill?" Kelly asked gently, trying to take her friend's mind off of the subject.

Kris shook her head. "I picked up the phone, and then realised that I wouldn't be able to say anything. I mean; she's in France at the moment. How could I break the news and then just hang up the phone and leave her to deal with it on her own?"

"I called Bos," Kelly spoke after a few moments. "Told him the basics... asked him if he'd tell Charlie." She paused and took a sip of coffee from the partially shredded cup. "I don't think I'm ready to explain things directly to Charlie just yet."

She allowed a small smile to play around her mouth as she felt Kris' hand tighten around her own. "Thanks," she told her friend quietly. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad you left me the message," Kris admitted, and the two friends lapsed into an uneasy silence, both relived to have the support of the other.

* * *

Tiffany thanked the nurse on duty at the station with a smile, and pushed open the door onto the next corridor.

As soon as she'd finished talking with the authorities, she'd placed a call to Bosley and been surprised to hear that Kelly had already put in a call. The last time she'd seen her friend, she'd not thought that Kelly would have the presence of mind to make the call, let alone leave a fairly comprehensive report.

Events had become little more than a blur after the discovery at the factory. Kelly's frantic shouts had brought officers running to the room, whilst someone – Tiffany suspected Jarrett – had rung for an ambulance. The place had erupted into life; frantic searches of the building had revealed little. If Rickard had been on the premises then he'd somehow managed to get clean away.

It had taken all her skills of persuasion to get Kelly away from Sabrina's side and to let the paramedics in. Kris had remained standing mutely in the doorway, seemingly unable to take a single step into the room; even repeated requests for help in finding the syringe had received no response. A uniformed officer had finally helped with that request, and Tiffany had concentrated on getting her two friends away from the building and taking them to the hospital to wait on the words of the doctors.

She saw both of her friends sitting silently side by side at the far end of the corridor and took a deep breath. The conversation was going to be awkward. It was up to her to try and keep their spirits up. The doctor had yet to tell them anything about Sabrina's condition; telling them that it was too early for a full prognosis. The drugs in her system made the whole situation a difficult one, and they'd been gently advised to go back to their motel and wait to be called.

She paced confidently down the corridor towards them and placed the Styrofoam cups she was holding down on the low table at the side of the two chairs. "I bought coffee," she told them needlessly by way of a greeting. She shrugged she shoulders. "I didn't even think about calling ahead and seeing if you wanted anything else."

She took in the tired, pinched expression on Kelly's face. "Has there been any word?"

Kelly shook her head and rubbed at her tired eyes. "Comfortable, that's all the nurse would say ... comfortable." She let out an exclamation of frustration. "That doesn't tell us anything. It's useless." She held a hand up. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "I know it isn't your fault. I guess I just need to let off steam."

"What did Charlie have to say?" Kris shuffled in her seat, reaching for one of the coffee cups, knowing that her friend would have called in.

Tiffany pulled a face. "To say that he's less than happy is something of an understatement. At some point he'll want an explanation of why we went ahead with the plan without talking to him first. I think he was scared that we'd get ourselves killed."

Kelly let out an exclamation; Tiffany wasn't sure if her anger was aimed at Charlie or just a way of letting out her feeling of frustration at their current situation.

The uneasy silence that had fallen upon the small group was broken as the door to the small private room opposite opened, and a doctor emerged.

He nodded in acknowledgement to the three women. "May I have a word?"

Exchanging uneasy glances the three women rose to their feet; prepared to hear the worst from the doctor.

He gave them a small smile. "I'm not here to worry you ladies; I'm here to tell you that you should go home; get some rest. Your friend will not be up to seeing anyone until the morning."

"I want to see her now," Kelly began to protest, but Tiffany broke across the end of her sentence.

"She'll be up to seeing someone in the morning?"

The doctor gave a brief nod. "I think that could be arranged." He raised a hand. "I don't want to mislead you; your friend has been through a traumatic experience. It's going to be a while before she's well enough to be released from here." He looked down at the notes that were written on the clipboard in front of him. "From what I've read she must have been through a lot in recent months."

Tiffany nodded. "Has anyone explained that she's been in here before?"

The doctor shook his head. "There are no previous admissions or notes for Sabrina Duncan."

"There won't be," Tiffany explained. "She was working here as Mary Thomas. I've seen files that list injuries that she's received in the last eighteen months and those file indicated that she'd been treated here."

"I'll get the nurse to check on those for me," the doctor told them as he scribbled something down on the bottom of the notes.

"Please," Kelly placed a hand on the man's arm. "Can I see her?"

* * *

Sergeant Thornford listened to the message from Grainger and swore loudly. He switched the receiver from one ear to the other and reached down for the lowest desk drawer. A call in the early hours of the morning had done nothing to improve his mood. The demand that he go to the station house and remove a number of files had only served to anger him further.

"Don't panic," he spat at Grainger as he tugged on the handle. "It's all here. I'll just dispose of what I have and no-one will be any the wiser."

The drawer finally opened on screeching metal runners and Thornford hastily lifted the files out. Panic set in as he began to realise that there were a number missing. "We may have a small problem," he told Grainger with a snarl and slammed down the phone.

Frantically he began searching through the files, not wanting to believe the evidence before him. Someone had removed a number of the case files. He had to find out exactly who had them and what they wanted with them. Jarrett was going to be high on his list of people to call. Reports had gotten back to him that Jarrett had been out on a call earlier in the day. Jarrett never went out ... ever. He'd get hold of the weasel of a man and find out exactly what he was up to.

A sharp rap on the door made him look up. Standing in the doorway were two detectives; their badges held out for him to see.

"Sergeant Thornford," one of them drawled. "We need to have a word."

* * *

Kelly pushed open the sterile white door and entered the small room. It was functional; pristine. Everything in the room spoke of a deliberately engineered neutrality – the only thing to break the image of sterile cleanliness was the slight figure lying motionless beneath the heavily starched bed sheets. Livid bruises marked Sabrina's face. Her right eye was swollen shut, and a series of angry red lines showed where Lewis' blows had broken the skin. Kelly immediately felt the rage grow inside of her at the thought of the treatment that her friend had suffered. She had blocked out the doctor's words as he began to explain the state that her friend was in. Sabrina was going to be ok; that was the only thing that she needed to know right now; that was the fact that she clung onto. When that information had sunk in then, and only then, would she be able to deal with the details.

She made her way silently to her friend's side. Even though she knew that Sabrina would not wake until morning, she felt obliged to move as quietly as she could. She cast an eye over the machines that were monitoring her friend's progress. She understood little of what they told her, but the reassuringly steady bleep of the heart monitor gave her a little consolation.

She lifted a chair from where it was placed against the far wall, and took a seat at the side of the bed. She'd stay there for as long as she was permitted. If by some slim chance her friend was to wake; then she wanted to be there.

* * *

Tiffany's face relaxed into a smile as she recognised Jarrett standing at the nurse's station. He was looking a little awkward, and Tiffany suspected that the nurses were teasing him a little. She called out a greeting to him, and he immediately excused himself from the small group of women and stepped forward to greet her. She stopped and frowned as she took in the serious look on his face.

"What's up?"

Jarrett looked down at his hands and seemed to be struggling to find the right words.

"Come on," Tiffany encouraged, trying not to let a feeling of panic settle around her shoulders. "What's going on?"

She watched as Jarrett took a deep breath to steady himself. "Thornford's in trouble, no problem there..." he broke off, shuffling his weight from foot to foot as he struggled to find the right words to explain the situation. "There will be detectives at reception in the next twenty minutes or so," he finally blurted out. "They'll be wanting to interview Mary ... Sabrina," he corrected himself quickly. "...In connection with the murder of Harrison Lewis."

Tiffany's eyes widened in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me," she breathed. "There has to be some mistake." She gestured back towards the direction of the private rooms. "Have they any idea of what she's been through?" She turned to face him again. "This has got to be a mistake!"

Jarrett shook his head. "No mistake. I thought you'd want to know."


	33. Chapter 33

Kelly stared out of the window and watched the steadily falling snow. It had carpeted the streets of the city and was showing no signs of letting up. At any other time she might have appreciated the difference that the snow made to the look of the city, but at that moment she paid it no heed. She cupped her hands around yet another cup of coffee and tried to stifle a yawn. It was a little before six in the morning, and Kelly knew that she was running on empty. Kris had promised to stop by at six and take over from her, so that she could go back to the motel and finally get some sleep. Tiffany had suggested that they move to better accommodation, but Kelly found that she didn't have the energy to think about moving. The motel would suit them well enough until they had a clear idea of how long Sabrina would have to stay in the hospital for.

She was grateful to the nursing staff; they had sent the away the two detectives who had arrived in the small hours of the morning, demanding to be allowed to interview Sabrina. One – rather imposing looking – nurse had calmly folded her arms and told the two cheap-suited detectives that there was no point in them staying. They had looked as though they wanted to argue with her, but had quickly backed down. Kelly wondered just what the nurse had over the two men. There had to be something to make them back off so easily.

She drained the last of the bitter coffee and scrunched up the empty cup before tossing it into the nearest bin. The doctor's words from the previous night ran through her mind. She'd tried to tune his voice out, but certain words and phrases drilled their way into her mind. It had been hard enough to hear the details that Tiffany had read about in Sabrina's file, but there was something in listening to the words of the doctor that made everything a hard, inescapable, truth. She didn't want to dwell on what had happened to Sabrina, but the reality of the situation was that her friend was now laid up in a hospital bed with a team of healthcare professionals checking on her every hour, on the hour.

It had been a relief when they'd been told that there was no risk of an overdose from the cocktail of drugs that she had in her system. Kelly closed her eyes and tried to shift the image that sprang up in her mind. She didn't ever want to have to recall the state that her friend had been in when they'd found her in the freezing cold of the abandoned factory. The memory was accompanied by an almost overwhelming feeling of helplessness. To stand there and not be able to do anything practical to help had been heartbreaking. That feeling had developed during the night into one of frustration, and that was what had finally led Kelly to abandon her self-appointed post at Sabrina's bedside. There wasn't one thing she could do to help her friend; not one thing. The nurses looked pointedly at her as they came in to check on Sabrina, and reminded her that there was nothing she could do to help at the present time. They had all told her – each in their own way – that it was better if she just went home and got some rest for herself. She was certain that she was going to scream if anyone else was to tell her that Sabrina wouldn't thank her if she made herself ill.

There was another thought, one that kept hammering away at the back of her mind. She knew that it had been one of the main reasons she'd been unable to sleep. It had been a shock to see her friend in such a state; her pupils had been so dilated, barely aware of what was going on around her. Kelly closed her eyes and wished that she could banish the thought in her head. She'd wanted to swing for the uniformed officer who'd first said the words, but now, now she was starting to think that maybe he was right; he was after all the objective outsider with no personal interest in the situation. If he saw it that way; what was to say that he was wrong. 'What the hell has she taken?' Even now Kelly shivered as she recalled his words. 'Just what the hell has she shot herself up with this time?' This time... those two words resonated in her head. It was the one thing she'd not considered; not really stopped and thought about. What was to say that Bri had been able to keep her head above water all this time; what was to say that she'd been handling things as well as she'd claimed? Kelly thought back over the brief meetings she'd had. Sabrina had been on edge the whole time; had been nervous, paranoid, eager to get away. Kelly shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. Sabrina had been clean; whatever had happened at Rickard's place hadn't been her fault. Rickard was going to have her killed; that's what Gage had said. She laughed inwardly at the absurdity of the situation; she was relying on the word of a drug dealer to convince herself that her friend was ok.

"Hey," Kris' quiet voice at her shoulder made her jump; she'd been so deep in thought that she'd not heard her approach. She quickly forced a smile onto her face and greeted her friend.

"Morning," she managed to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.

She saw the concerned expression that formed on her friend's face. "I'm fine," she tried to pre-empt Kris' questions. "Medical staff ejected me from the room a little after three. Told me I could wait out here, but that Sabina needed to be on her own." She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know why they insisted that I leave."

She watched her friend closely, waiting to see if her lie would be believed. She let out the breath she'd been holding when Kris rolled her eyes.

"I don't know why they insist on that. It's not as though you were going to disturb her." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Did they give you any indication of when visiting rights would be returned?"

Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "There must be a shift change soon. Always worth approaching the new ..." she broke off as two men in dark suits crossed her field of vision, heading directly for Sabrina's room. "Hang on," she tapped Kris on the shoulder and set off after the two men; suddenly alert and with a new sense of purpose.

* * *

Detective Goldsmith made no effort to stifle the yawn. He'd been up for what felt like days. His youngest was teething and his wife was insistent that he do his fair share of nights. He'd tried to point out that he already had a full-time job but that excuse had not gone down well, and he'd reluctantly relented after his wife had threatened to stop washing and cooking for him. With the long shifts he was pulling at the moment, his wife knew just how much he relied upon her.

He rubbed his tired eyes and regarded his partner, knowing full well that Corrigan would be smirking at him. Corrigan was still wet-behind the ears as a detective; at thirty, he was seven years younger than himself and had yet to settle down. He was a man who still viewed marriage and children as nothing more than a burden that should be avoided at all costs. Goldsmith ran a hand across his burning eyes and thought that perhaps Corrigan had a point. One thing he didn't need at this hour of the morning was Corrigan reminding him of this however.

He grunted at the expression on his partner's face. "What's the woman's name?" He tried and failed to prevent himself from yawning again.

Corrigan consulted his notebook. "Sabrina Duncan," he reported back. He looked up and Goldsmith indicated that he wanted more information. He chewed the inside of his mouth in frustration. Goldsmith was always doing this. He might be newly promoted to the rank of detective, but he knew his job and didn't need someone constantly testing him. He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Sabrina Duncan. Present at the scene of a suspected homicide. Lieutenant wants her questioned; wants to find out the exact circumstances surrounding the shooting of Harrison Lewis." He pulled a face. "That good enough for you?"

Goldsmith's answer was lost amid another yawn, but Corrigan knew what he'd be saying. He nodded in the direction of the vending machines. "I'll get the coffee whilst you check in with the nurses. See if they'll let us in through the door this time."

Goldsmith watched as his partner loped off in the direction of the vending machine, looking for all the world like some over-enthusiastic puppy. Goldsmith shook his head. After a few months of investigating the deaths of people that no-one cared about, he was certain that Corrigan would lose the youthful enthusiasm for the job that he presently had.

He stretched out the tired muscles in his neck and prepared to go another round with the rather large and intimidating nurse at the station. He had a lot of respect for nurses – hell he'd married one – but there were times when he wished that they didn't believe the best of everybody. He was here investigating a suspected homicide and the nurse on duty had guarded her patient as though she was royalty. He'd tried pointing out that the patient in question had been admitted with a suspected overdose, but the nurse was having none of it; and after a few courteous enquiries as to the health of his wife and children, she had sent him on his way.

"Can I help you?"

Goldsmith was suddenly aware of the presence of someone standing next to him. The curt tone of voice immediately put him on alert. He had precious little information about the woman he was going to visit, but the one thing he hadn't been expecting was family. The abruptness in the tone of the woman's voice was unmistakably that of disgruntled family.

He turned to glance at the woman, and failed to prevent his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the attractive brunette standing there, arms tightly folded; a look of firm determination on her face.

He nodded to her. "Ma'am?"

She was joined moments later by a friend; a woman with long blonde hair and a look of equal determination. Goldsmith felt his heart sink; Corrigan was going to love this. He however wasn't in the mood for pushy friends. He pulled his identification from his pocket and showed the shield to the two women. In the movies people had respect for a gold shield. In reality, people treated it as though it were nothing more than something he had won in a gumball machine. The two women looked suitably unimpressed.

"I hope you're not thinking of talking to Miss Duncan right now," the brunette told him in a voice that dared him to disagree with her.

He smiled at her with as much patience as he could muster. "Order of my lieutenant ma'am. It's just a formality."

He hadn't thought it was possible, but the brunette's eyes narrowed further. "Coming to interview someone at six in the morning in their hospital bed is not a formality!"

"She needs to answer some questions."

"She's not well enough to have visitors," Kelly told him abruptly.

Goldsmith fixed her with a firm glare. "And that's your professional opinion is it Doctor...?" he let the sentence trail off.

Kelly wished that she still had a business card that she could offer up. She knew that most detectives viewed P.I's as something worse than the crud on the pavement, and at that moment she had an overwhelming desire to annoy the hell out of the detective in front of her.

"I don't need to ask the opinion of a doctor to know that Miss Duncan is not in any sort of state to receive visitors Detective ..." she deliberately tailed off, pretending that she had forgotten his name.

Goldsmith smiled blandly at her, refusing to rise to the bait. "You are friends of Miss Duncan I take it?"

Kelly nodded and introduced herself and Kris to the detective. She watched as a flash of irritation passed across his face. It was obvious that he had heard their names before.

"I take it you're the ones who went in with Officer Jarrett's little vigilante squad?"

Kelly bristled at his words. "We went in and saved my friend's life," she corrected. "Something that the rest of the officers at the precinct seemed disinclined to do."

Goldsmith rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. "Just a shame that you couldn't save the life of everybody in the building," he told her bluntly.

Kelly's hands bunched automatically into fists, but before she could say anything, another voice joined the conversation.

"When you've quite finished discussing my patient, perhaps you would care to listen to what I have to say…"

The small group paused and turned to see the same nurse who had earlier refused permission for Goldsmith and his partner to interview Sabrina. She was standing with folded arms, glaring at the small party. Corrigan, who had just returned from the vending machine with two cups of scalding coffee in his hands, was not spared.

"Any change Elise?" Goldsmith enquired; deliberately using her first name to emphasise his connection to her in front of Kelly.

Elise shook her head. "I'm sorry detective, as I said earlier it will be a while before Miss Duncan is ready to be interviewed." She raised her hands knowing what his objections would be. "I appreciate that your lieutenant wants answers on this, but I'm not prepared to let the patient be interviewed in her current state."

Kelly didn't even try and keep the smug expression from her face, and immediately vowed to buy something nice for the nursing staff as a thank you. Her moment of victory was short-lived however as the nurse turned to face her.

"I'd go home as well if I were you," she spoke softly to Kelly. "Miss Duncan doesn't want to see anyone right now."

"... She's awake?" Kelly forced the words out of her mouth; immediately angry with herself for wasting time arguing with the detective when she could've been at her friend's side.

The nurse nodded. "She regained consciousness a little while ago..." She turned to face Goldsmith and glared at him. "That does not mean that she is any state for visitors."

"How is she? What has she said?" Kris was quicker with the questions than Kelly.

The nurse turned back to face them both. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "There isn't anything I can tell you." She paused for a moment before continuing. "Miss Duncan has said very little, but one thing she was clear on was that she didn't want to see anyone... and she made me promise to respect her wishes," the nurse quickly added; sensing that she was about to be on the end of protests from both sides.

Detective Goldsmith flashed a smile in Kelly's direction. "Seems we're both at a bit of an impasse. Perhaps we should both admit defeat and come back later." He paused and took a step backwards. "Of course **I **can insist that Miss Duncan sees me when I return."

Without waiting for a response, Goldsmith turned around and paced away down the corridor, leaving Kelly glaring after him. Corrigan watched his partner as he paced away. After a moment or two he realised that he was now on the receiving end of two angry gazes. He nodded politely in the direction of the two women before heading off after his partner; hot coffee splashing over the rims of the coffee cups he was holding and scalding his fingers.

Elise raised her hands as soon as she was left alone with the two women. "I'm sorry," she apologised to them both. "At the moment your friend has requested that she see no-one." She gestured back towards the door to Sabrina's room. "As soon as she's feeling stronger I'm sure she'll feel differently... just give her a little time, huh?"

There were so many questions that Kelly wanted answers to, but one look at the determined expression on the face of the nurse in front of her told her that she would be wasting her time. She felt Kris' hand close over her arm and draw her away.

"We'll come back later," Kris told her quietly. "We'll give Bri a little longer." She smiled at the nurse. "Can you let her know that we came to see her, and that we asked after her?"

Elise nodded. "Of course." She gestured towards the door. "Now ladies if you wouldn't mind...I'd hate to have to ask the detectives to escort you from the premises."

* * *

Tiffany struggled to balance the two brown shopping bags that she was carrying. She had only intended on going out for a few essential items, but as she wandered round the store, she realised just how few provisions they had in the small motel apartment. As one of the bags attempted to slip from her grasp she shifted her arm to catch it and inadvertently leant back on the front door. It slammed shut; a loud echo reverberating around the small apartment. Kris immediately appeared in the kitchen doorway, one finger pressed to her lips.

"Kelly's asleep," she hissed. "Well she was; I'm not sure anyone could sleep through that."

"Sorry," Tiffany apologised. She nodded down towards the brown bags that she was holding. "Could you give me a hand?"

Kris made her way across the apartment and took one of the bags from Tiffany's hands. She peered into it. "What have you bought?"

Tiffany shrugged her shoulders and followed Kris back into the kitchen area. "If I'm honest with you, then I'm not entirely sure. Once I'd started putting things into the cart, I didn't seem able to stop."

Kris placed the bag she was carrying down on the counter and regarded her friend. "Are you alright?"

Tiffany shrugged away the question. "I'm fine," she told Kris without much enthusiasm. "I guess I'm just a little tired ... it's been a busy few days."

Kris studied her friend more closely, not wholly convinced that she was being told everything. However, she decided not to push things.

"How were things at the hospital?" Tiffany's question broke across her thoughts. It was her turn to offer up a shrug by way of response.

"The detectives that Jarrett warned you about put in another appearance while we were there. They were chased off by one of the nurses on duty." Kris paused. "And so were we." She picked items out of the shopping bag. "Sabrina didn't want to see us."

"What?"

Kris pulled more items from the bag. "The nurse on duty told us that she didn't want to see us." Kris shrugged again. "I'm trying not to take it personally but ... it's hard... you know?"

Tiffany nodded, and then gestured towards Kelly's room. "How's she taking it?"

Kris pulled a face. "Not well. I mean she's worried, I'm worried. We just want the chance to finally be there for Bri, but it seems that all she wants to do is push us away."

Tiffany leant back upon the counter and pushed her hands through her hair. "If those detectives are gunning for her, then Sabrina's going to need all the help she can get. The sooner she realises that the better."

Kris looked at her evenly. "There's nothing we can do right now. After what she's been through, the last thing she needs is to be pushed into doing something she doesn't want to." She shrugged. "We just have to be patient."

Tiffany nodded absently and then pushed herself away from the counter, returning her attention to emptying the shopping bags.

* * *

Two hours later Tiffany pushed open the door to Sabrina's room and quietly entered. Feelings of guilt played at the corner of her mind as she thought back to the lie that she'd told Kris. 'Just going out for some air', had been her rather unoriginal excuse, but she knew that she couldn't put the meeting off.

She'd not been into Sabrina's room before; not feeling as though it was her place to intrude. She still didn't feel as though she knew the former angel well enough to pay her visit. Now though, now she felt as though she owed it to her friends to try and get through to woman who was currently glaring silently at her from the bed.

She sketched a wave in her direction. "Hi," she smiled; immediately feeling a little uneasy. She had seen Sabrina at Rickard's place on Stanton, but now, if anything, the former angel looked worse. The bruising that had then only started to show now covered half her face in a marbling of purple and black. An I.V line still snaked out from her left arm, and the hum of machinery provided a constant in the background.

She gestured back towards the sign that hung on the door handle. "I know that you requested not to see anyone, but you and I really need to have a talk."

She felt her heart sink a little as she heard a heavy sigh from Sabrina. The nurse on duty had frowned when she'd said that she intended to have a little chat with the patient and warned her that she wasn't to tire the patient out, but the woman had done nothing to stop her from entering the room. She reasoned that Sabrina hadn't considered that she might come to call.

"If you've come here to tell me that I have to get back on the horse, or some such other motivational crap, then you can just turn right around now and go," Sabrina struggled to get the words out. "I'm not in the mood ... and I certainly don't have the energy to listen."

Tiffany didn't reply but simply reached into her purse and pulled out a battered looking airline ticket wallet. She placed it down on the cabinet next to the bed.

"I've held that ticket in my hands so many times," she finally explained quietly. "Trying to decide if I was doing the right thing or not. There's so much in LA that I love, but there's also so much of my life that's back here. And there's so much work to do here."

She looked across at Sabrina, and saw the confused expression on the other woman's face.

"You're not the only one with big decisions to make," she explained. "I've got a few life-changing events of my own that I need to work through, and I don't think Kris and Kelly are going to make it easy. They're not going to want to listen to me; not going to accept that I've made a reasoned decision." She sighed heavily. "But the fact of the matter is, I can't go back with them." She straightened out one of the crumpled corners of the wallet. "I want you to take this; use it. Fly back to LA with the others. If you go with them, it'll make it easier for me to stay back here."

Sabrina gave a slight shake of her head. "I can't go back there." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Tiffany shrugged her shoulders. "You have to; think of it as the first step towards reclaiming your life."

Sabrina shifted painfully, trying to raise herself up a little.

"And what makes you the expert on my life?"

There was more than a note of impatience in the faint voice, but Tiffany chose to ignore it.

"I stand here and I see someone who can't see beyond the things that have happened to her; who can't, or won't, look at two people who care about her, and realise that maybe, just maybe they have their own problems too." She paused and took in the angry expression that was forming on Sabrina's face. "I'm not going to stand here and pretend that your time in this city has been anything other than traumatic; you've been through a hell of a lot, I just want you to consider for a moment that no-one else's life has been standing still whilst you were here. You are not the only one who's had a tough time. You are not the only person who has had to deal with loss."

"Get out."

The words were spoken so calmly and so softly, that Tiffany nearly missed them. This wasn't the reaction that she had been expecting. She waited for a few moments, but Sabrina said nothing more.

Her tactic wasn't working. She racked her brains, trying to think of another way to get through to Sabrina.

"Ok, Ok. So I don't know how you're feeling. I can't claim to understand what it must feel like to be in your position. But I have eyes, and I look at Kelly and Kris and see two people who can't understand why their friend won't trust them and won't let them in. Two people who are confused and angry because a person they care deeply about does nothing but shut them out."

There was no response from Sabrina. Tiffany shook her head.

"Hey, hey it's up to you. You want to throw your whole life away, go ahead. No-one here is going to stop you, no-one is going to make you do anything you don't want to, but if you decide that you want to fight back; that you want to try and get back to somewhere close to where you were before all this happened, then you know that you've got two people out there willing to walk through fire to help you." Tiffany strode towards the door without waiting for an answer. "This choice - this is something that is within your control. You have the power to make that decision; no-one else can do it for you." She swept out through the door and then let out a long calming breath. She hoped that she'd done the right thing. Only time would tell.


	34. Chapter 34

_**Here we go; the penultimate chapter. I'm hoping to post the final one very soon. **_

* * *

Tiffany sat in the diner, oblivious to the people who were milling around her, all intent on getting their fix of coffee and getting out of the diner and on with their day. She'd been nursing the same cup of coffee for the best part of an hour; pre-occupied with her own thoughts. She was beginning to think that she'd been too hard on Sabrina. She had returned to the motel after her confrontation with the former angel, half-expecting that Kelly would already be making her way out of the door, but there had been no contact from the hospital. No word at all. It had been a good twenty-four hours before any word came through, and that was from the nurse. She'd called to warn them that the detectives were back again. Patient confidentiality had prevented her from saying too much, but she implied that Sabrina needed some support. Kelly had been the first to her feet and was now at the hospital – it remained to be seen whether or not Sabrina would relent and see her.

Tiffany sighed heavily. If Kelly did manage to speak to Sabrina, she wondered if the content of her meeting with the former angel would come up in the conversation. She'd still not told the others that she was thinking of staying back on the East Coast. She'd wanted to say something before they'd headed out on the trip, but at that time she really wasn't certain that it was what she wanted to do. Now that she had made her mind up; she just needed to break the news to her friends.

She stared gloomily out of the window and watched the city as it rushed by.

* * *

Detective Goldsmith pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. There were times when he hated his job, when he wished that he could follow instinct alone and not have to waste time getting information from certain individuals. The woman in front of him was wasting his time. After the delay in getting to interview her, he was under pressure to come up with answers. So far she had given him nothing to work with. To every question she answered with a small shrug, or a quiet protest that she didn't remember what had happened. Only minutes after the interview had started her 'friend' the detective had turned up. She was worse than the attending nurse; always jumping to her friend's defence and not letting him get on with the questioning.

He tapped his pencil impatiently on his notebook, and tried once again to get something concrete out of her. "And what **exactly** happened next ... ma'am?"

"I ..." Sabrina shook her head weakly. "I don't remember."

Goldsmith muttered to himself. "You don't remember huh? That's just great...great!" He continued tapping on his notebook, not bothering to raise his eyes to meet hers. "Is there anything that you **do **remember?" He did nothing to hide the frustration in his voice.

"Hey!" Kelly's tone was abrupt. "You want to give the lady a little bit of space. I'm sure all of this can wait a little while."

"Oh you're sure, are you?" Goldsmith turned and looked into Kelly's angry face. "There's a guy lying on a mortuary slab downtown with a nice round bullet hole in his back. The bullet that the coroner dug out the man was fired from the gun that had your friend's fingerprints all over it. She was, by all accounts, the only other person in the room at the time of the shooting ... I'd say that was a situation that needed clearing up... wouldn't you?" He looked pointedly at her, as though challenging her to argue with him.

He felt a twinge of guilt at his own words. The woman standing in front of him was obviously just trying to protect her friend. From where he stood he didn't understand her loyalty. He tried to imagine the bruised and battered figure in the bed as someone other than Mary Thomas, but his mind just kept bringing up the details that he'd read in her file. She'd been in and out of the station house in the last eighteen months – involved with just about every junkie that he'd had the misfortune to meet. From what he saw, the woman didn't seem to care one way or the other whether or not her friend was there. She'd greeted her arrival with nothing more than a heavy sigh, and had done little to return the attempts at conversation that had been made. He sighed again as he saw the hard line of the brunette's mouth and realised that he'd just bought himself a whole lot of trouble. She shook her head as she glared at him.

"Have you any idea just what sort of man he was?" she demanded to know. She pointed rigidly at her friend. "He did this. I know you've read the file on Mary Thomas. You must know the number of times that she was admitted to hospital in the last year. Can you work out who was responsible for the injuries that she received, or do you need me to explain it to you in words of two syllables or less?"

Kelly squared up to the man, daring him to say anything more. It was Sabrina's quiet voice that answered her.

"Kelly; it's fine," her voice was strained, making Kelly aware of just how much effort it was taking to talk. "They're ... they're just doing their job."

Kelly kept her eyes fixed on the detective in front of her; not willing to back down. She grabbed hold of the man's arm and pulled him away from Sabrina and towards the window. "The man nearly killed her for God's sake," she hissed under her breath. "From what I can see he'd been using her as some sort of punching bag. What say you give her a break and come back when she's got a little strength back? You can see that she's not going anywhere in a hurry."

The detective pulled his arm away and made a show of straightening his jacket. "The doctor on call told us that she was well enough for a visit..."

"... This isn't a visit it's a damned interrogation, and you know that as well as I do," Kelly cut across his words. "Just go ... go now... go before I call your Lieutenant and tell him exactly the sort of strong arm tactics you've been using."

Goldsmith opened his mouth to argue with Kelly but then closed it again as he realised that it just wasn't worth the effort. With exaggerated motions he closed his notebook and returned it to his pocket. He nodded towards his partner, and the two of them headed for the door. Halfway out of the room he turned back and addressed Sabrina. "We'll be back ... count on it. And who knows, maybe next time you won't have your guard dog here to protect you!"

Kelly swung round to face Sabrina as soon as the door closed behind the departing detectives. "What was all that about?" she demanded to know. "We have to fight this."

She watched as Sabrina simply pushed her head back into her pillow.

"Bri!"

Sabrina pulled a face. "Can't we do this later?"

Kelly shook her head with disbelief. "Sabrina, this is serious. Goldsmith looks as though he's gunning for an arrest on this. We have to make him see that what you did, you did because you had to."

She glanced down at her friend, concerned by the glazed, emotionless response her comments were receiving. "You are not the criminal here Bri; you have to prove that."

Sabrina closed her eyes, but Kelly caught the grimace of pain that passed across her friend's features. "You want me to get the nurse?"

Sabrina shook her head. "Trust me," she whispered. "The last thing I need are more drugs in my system."

Kelly opened her mouth to ask a question, but then promptly closed it again. Now wasn't the time to discuss the matter. She chewed her lip thoughtfully for a second. "Are you sure that there isn't anything I can get you?"

Sabrina shook her head. "I'm just tired," she admitted.

Kelly paused before asking her next question. "Were you going to call?"

Sabrina stared up silently at the ceiling.

"Bri?"Kelly pushed for an answer. "If the nurse hadn't called me then I wouldn't know that those detectives were back here. We want to help ... let us."

Sabrina remained silent, and realising that she wasn't going to get anything out of her, Kelly knew she had no alternative but to leave. "I'm coming back," she told her friend firmly. "You and I need to have a talk... and we are going to have that talk... whether you like it or not."

* * *

Kelly thumped the side of the vending machine in frustration. It wasn't as though she really wanted another cup of foul-tasting coffee; it was just that, for once, she wanted something to actually work the way that it was supposed to.

"Let me buy you something that's at least drinkable," a male voice told her, causing her to jump in surprise. She spun round to see Gage leaning up against the wall opposite.

"Get the hell out of here," she growled. "Keep the hell away from us."

She was slightly unnerved by the way that Gage smiled at her.

He gestured towards the small seating area that was stationed alongside the row of vending machines. "If you won't let me buy you coffee, at least listen to what I have to tell you."

Kelly shook her head and backed a pace away. "I've got nothing to say to you."

Gage cocked his head to one side. "That may well be true, but I've certainly got a few things I need to talk you through … all of them rather pressing I'm afraid." He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. "I really do need fifteen minutes of your time. Is that so very much to ask?"

Kelly studied him, trying to work out exactly what he was doing there. "Fifteen minutes," she finally relented. "But not here." She wanted the man as far away from Sabrina as possible.

* * *

Kelly stared across the table at the smart-suited man. She nervously turned her cup of coffee in its saucer and waited for him to break the silence. He had refused to say more than a few pleasantries on the short walk to the small diner, and upon arrival had done nothing but order coffee for them both. She watched as he added cream and sugar to his coffee before finally raising his head to acknowledge her.

"Your friend is now free to leave the city. The police will no longer be investigating the untimely demise of Harrison Lewis and so I advise that..."

Kelly raised a hand. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. Back up a little." She narrowed her eyes. "Are you trying to tell me that ..."

"...that I've smoothed out a rather rocky path?" Gage finished for her. He made a point of straightening his tie. "That is precisely what I'm saying. The two detectives will be reassigned and the whole matter will simply cease to be of interest to the department. The last thing I need in my city is this sort of distraction."

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "Your city?"

Gage chose to ignore the query. "However my debt to your friend is not limitless," he advised Kelly. "As soon as is practical, I suggest that you and your friends pack up your bags and go on your way."

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"

Gage shook his head. "Think of it more as a statement of intent. Whilst I'm grateful to Ms Duncan for her information – and of course her clean disposal of Harrison Lewis, I'm well aware of the threat that she poses …" he tailed off as he caught the expression on Kelly's face and laughed quietly. "Come now Miss Garrett, are you really going to sit there and expect me to believe that you didn't know of her culpability for Harrison Lewis' very timely death?" Gage sat back in his seat and folded his arms; his expression one of bemusement.

"It was self-defence," she countered. "There's no physical evidence to support any other possibility." The smile that spread across Gage's face only served to infuriate her. "Have you any idea of the state she was in when we found her? There's no way she would have been able to take out someone like Lewis in cold blood."

"You convince yourself of whatever you want," Gage told her smoothly. "The police report will list the death as a result of self-defensive actions and that now fully repays the debt that I owe her. If you wish to continue to think of your friend as some lily white innocent, then you have it your way Miss Garrett. I'm not going to be the one to argue with you."

"Just keep away from us," Kelly warned, not wanting to dwell on what Gage was saying. She didn't want to have to think about the implications of Gage being right.

She pushed her seat away from the table and rose to her feet. "I don't think there's much point in prolonging this," she told him tartly.

"As you wish," he smiled in return. "The truth can be an uncomfortable bed fellow at times." He took a mouthful of his coffee before rising to his feet and holding out his hand. "No hard feelings Miss Garrett?"

Kelly stared long and hard at the man, not making any effort to take his outstretched hand.

The patient smile remained on Gage's face. "I can assure you that I'm not going to be mentioning your friend's little indiscretion outside of this meeting with you. It would rather negate the hard work that I've put in at the coroner's office on her behalf." He glanced down towards his outstretched hand. "It really would be in your best interest to agree to draw a line under this incident and move on. That's what this meeting is all about. The debts are paid, the slate is wiped clean. This is where our paths diverge and we never meet again."

Kelly realised that it was pointless disagreeing with the man. He was telling her that he was out of their lives, and that was something that she was grateful for.

Reluctantly she accepted the handshake.

"412," Gage told her as he released her hand.

"I'm sorry!" Kelly was momentarily confused.

"The room where Ms Duncan is residing," Gage told her evenly. "I was made aware of the number within minutes of her arrival." He saw the fear that flashed across Kelly's face. "Oh don't worry; I didn't arrange this meeting just to get you out of the way. I currently have no interest in Ms Duncan's health and well-being. This is more by the way of advice. Do not make the mistake of underestimating me, do so and it may well come to light that the bullet that shot Harrison Lewis in the back was fired from the same handgun that killed Murray Buchanan. I assure you that ballistics will be able to make a match, and that Miss Duncan's fingerprints will be found all over the weapon." He bowed slightly in her direction. "What happens to your friend is entirely down to you. Good day Miss Garrett."

Kelly stood in mute silence as Gage turned on his heel and headed towards the door. He turned to face her as he reached the doorway. "Oh and it may be worth bearing in mind that it will have been just as easy for Rickard to find out where Ms Duncan is presently residing! I'm sure he feels as though he has his own score to settle with her." He doffed his hat in her direction and swept out of the diner.

* * *

Tiffany lowered the newspaper she'd been hiding behind and watched as Kelly hurried out of the diner. She'd been too far away from their table to hear what they'd been discussing, but she was more than a little intrigued as to why Kelly had been sitting and chatting with someone like Gage. It was going to be hard to broach the subject with Kelly; she hoped that her friend would be the one to bring the topic up.

* * *

Kelly tapped gently on the door. When she received no reply she pushed it silently open and glanced into the room. She froze when she realised that her friend's bed was empty. A feeling of panic rose in her chest and Gage's warning about Rickard working out where Bri was flashed through her mind. She felt her nails dig into her palms as her hands automatically balled into fists.

A cold blast of air from the window caused her to glance up, and that was when she caught sight of Sabrina standing out on the small balcony that adjoined the room; looking down at the city below. Kelly let out the breath that she was holding and an expression of pure relief flashed across her face; almost immediately the expression was replaced with one of consternation. Sabrina wasn't supposed to be out of bed – let alone out of bed and out on the balcony. Picking up one of the spare blankets from the end of the bed she padded gently towards the door that led outside.

Sabrina was standing motionless; both hands gripping the metal rail of the balcony. She was wearing nothing more than the standard issue hospital gown with a thin dressing gown thrown across her shoulders. She had to be freezing.

Kelly took another few steps forward, not wanting to surprise her friend, but needing to make her presence felt. She was surprised that it was Sabrina who broke the silence.

"You ever look down there at the people going about their daily business and wonder just what is going through their minds? They pass you by and you don't even stop to consider what anyone else might be thinking, what they might be going through... I mean it's impossible... you try and you'd go crazy, so many people, each one with their own unique thoughts and problems...every one of them trying so hard to make their way in the world." She stopped and stared down at her hands. "We can't save them all." The words slipped out of her mouth; spoken so softly that Kelly almost missed them. "I think it's the hardest lesson of all," Bri continued, still staring blindly at her hands. "We can't save them all Kelly. Lives slip through your fingers and there's nothing that you can do to stop them... nothing."

In that one moment Kelly understood just why her friend had been so quiet with the police; so unwilling to fight back against their accusations. She **wanted **to be punished; she wanted to accept responsibility for the lives that had been lost during her time in New York. Kelly mentally kicked herself, she should have realised it sooner. She struggled to find the right thing to say.

"You did everything that you could," Kelly told her softly, hoping to get through to her friend.

Sabrina shook her head. "I sat there and said nothing. Rickard told me what was going on and I sat there and said nothing." She let out a long breath. "I chose to say nothing ... chose not to stop it, any of it." She shook her head gently from side to side. "So wrapped up in hurting Rickard that I didn't stop to think about the human cost." Her knuckles whitened as her grip on the rail increased. "And before them... Michael ...Lisa ... Hell, even Murray." She broke off. "Rickard was right."

She turned her head and saw the concerned expression on her friend's face. "Oh it's alright. I'm not planning on jumping if that's what you're thinking."

Kelly fought for the right way to counter her friend's comments. "You are not responsible for what happened..."

"... No? Then who is?" There was anger in Sabrina's voice. "Lisa Saker died because she was out on the route that was supposed to be mine."

"You are not responsible for the things that Gage's men did," Kelly tried to push her point home. "You were there trying to make a difference."

"Some difference."

"Rickard's tame cops are no longer on the payroll," she encouraged. "You helped make a positive change there."

Sabrina shook her head gently. "They were nothing... small fry. Basically good cops who took the money because they thought that it was one way of getting the drugs off of the street." She cast her eyes down at the busy street below and silence fell between the two friends.

Sabrina watched her breath as it formed in the air. Finally, she broke the silence. "Why am I here when so many others aren't?" She raised her head and shook her hair out of her eyes. "It just seems so unfair, so arbitrary. I'm here but Michael isn't." She fell silent again for a few moments. "He was a good man Kelly; he didn't deserve to die in some alleyway at the hands of a man like Lewis."

"We need to get you away from here," Kelly told her softly. "Get you out of this city and away from all this."

A faint smile played around Sabrina's lips. "That's going to be a little hard don't you think? I don't think Goldsmith is going to let me out of this building without a fight."

"Goldsmith won't be back," Kelly explained. "The police are satisfied that you were acting in self-defence and won't be pursuing the matter further."

Kelly watched as Sabrina's head dropped down to stare at her hands again. "What is it?"

She was surprised when Sabrina turned to stare at her; the look on her face one of undisguised fury. "It was Gage, wasn't it? The bastard. He thinks that he can just wave a hand now and everybody will jump. You think I want to spend the rest of my life knowing that I'm indebted to that mercenary old bastard? I don't believe it!"

Sabrina took a deep breath, and gasped almost immediately as her damaged ribs protested at the movement. She grasped hold of the railing in front of her with both hands; gripping onto the small metal bar as tightly as she could, waiting for the wave of pain to wash over her. She felt Kelly take a pace closer and in response she forced herself to lift one hand from the railing to let Kelly know that she was fine.

Kelly turned her head and glanced back into the room. As she'd suspected there was evidence of where Sabrina had pulled the drip from her arm... her gaze took in the puddle of fluid that had now formed on the floor from the leaking stand.

"Should you be out of bed?" She asked the question as gently as she could, knowing that Sabrina was unlikely to respond well to a flat out demand about her health.

She saw the way that her friend gently shrugged her shoulders, and that small movement was in itself uncharacteristic. Sabrina wasn't one to dodge a question; she was nothing if not forthright about most things, to see her so apathetic about a subject was unnerving.

"Come back inside," she tried to encourage gently.

"I can't."

"You can," Kelly tried her best to convince her, but sighed inwardly as Sabrina shook her head. "Come inside," she encouraged gently, cautiously taking a step forward and wrapping the thick blanket around her friend's shaking shoulders. She closed her eyes in relief as she felt Sabrina accept the offer of the blanket; pulling it tightly around herself. Kelly kept one hand on her shoulder and willed her to turn around, but she knew Bri, and knew just how stubborn her friend could be. She resolved to stand there for as long as was necessary.


	35. Chapter 35

_**Here we go ... the final chapter... A huge thanks to everyone who read and took the time to leave a review ... it really did make a difference. With this being my first Angel fic, it was good to know that there were people along for the journey...there were a few more stops on the route than I'd originally intended, so thanks for your patience.**_

_**To those who read and didn't like it ... I appreciate your silence! And for anyone else who was along for the ride ... I hope you enjoyed at least a part of the trip.**_

_**It's been a blast**_

* * *

The door closed gently behind Kelly and she began walking on autopilot towards the exit. She wasn't sure exactly how long she had spent standing on the small balcony with Sabrina; the two of them there in companionable silence despite the constant buffeting of the freezing air. The calm had finally been disrupted by a nurse who'd come to check on her patient. There had then followed a flurry of activity where Kelly had found herself being unceremoniously pushed to one side as the staff sought to get Sabrina back to bed again. She had paid them little attention, but was fairly certain that she'd been on the receiving end of several barbed comments. They'd probably been justified; she knew full well that her friend had no business being out of bed.

As she rounded the bend in the corridor, she was more than a little surprised to see Detective Goldsmith leaning up against one of the walls reading a newspaper. She felt her heart sink; she really didn't have the energy for another run in with the man. She watched as he folded his paper smartly as she approached.

"Miss Garrett."

"If you're wanting to see Miss Duncan then you're out of luck," she told him in a tired voice, not bothering to return the greeting. "The doctor's insisting that no-one else be permitted to see her today."

Goldsmith smiled tightly. "It's actually you I want to talk to."

"Me?"

"It appears that you have some influential friends," he remarked casually.

"I've no idea what you mean," Kelly told him flatly.

Goldsmith smiled without any trace of warmth. "Right. So it's just a coincidence that the case against your 'friend' has been quietly dropped."

"There is no case to answer."

"There isn't **now**," Goldsmith corrected. "Seems someone applied a little pressure in just the right place. My Lieutenant doesn't take kindly to being led by the nose. I'm going to offer you a little piece of friendly advice Miss Garrett. No law enforcement officer in this city likes the Gage's of this world and the way that they think they can just get what they want, irrespective of the law. I suggest you collect your friend and get her away from here, otherwise she may find herself receiving the close attention of every detective in this city."

"Is that meant to be a threat?" Kelly's temper flared.

Goldsmith raised a hand. "As I said, it's just a friendly piece of advice. My Lieutenant is not a happy man. I think it's safe to say that he's going to be watching your friend very closely. If she dodges even one ride on the subway, drops one gum wrapper on the sidewalk then he's gonna want her dragged into the station."

Kelly looked at him evenly. "And you don't want that?"

Goldsmith shrugged. "Too much paperwork. Best for her and for all concerned if she was to leave."

His piece said, Goldsmith turned on his heel and headed for the stairs. Kelly watched him go, realising that he was right. First Gage and now Goldsmith were warning her that it would be in Sabrina's best interests if she was to leave at the earliest available opportunity. It was time to ring Charlie again and get the wheels in motion.

* * *

Kris hadn't been looking forward to putting the call in to Charlie. He'd expressed his anger at what he saw as their refusal to follow his instructions. They'd all tried telling him that they'd had no option but to act when they did, but Kris still sensed that he was more than a little put out that they hadn't contacted him first. With that in mind the three of them had agreed to sit down and talk things through before they called him.

"I spoke with Jarrett again this morning," Tiffany was the first to directly broach the subject. "There's been no sighting of Rickard in the last few days. Intelligence suggests that he's left the city."

"So he gets away scot-free?" Kelly's words were tinged with anger.

"His business has taken a huge hit," Tiffany sought for some way to ease the blow. "He's gone underground. He's going to lose a lot money from his investments."

"But he's just left the way open for someone else to take over," Kelly found that she couldn't hide her disgust.

"With no concrete evidence there was precious little that could be done. Sergeant Thornford has some explaining to do about the cases in his precinct that remained un-investigated…" Tiffany again tried to redress the balance.

"So the deaths of Michael and Helena will be chalked up to Lewis, but he's not in a position to pay for that crime," Kris found her voice. "So at the end of this who really gains?"

"Harry Gage," Kelly answered quietly. "He's the only real winner here."

"I'm sorry?"

Kelly shrugged the thought away. "Nothing. It's just that we clear one person out of the way, and it's odds on that someone will just step in and take his place."

"And you fancy Gage for the role?" Tiffany suggested, knowing that there was something else going on in her friend's mind.

Kelly shrugged her shoulders again. "It's probably nothing, but I had the distinct feeling that he was only helping us to help himself."

"So we go after him?"

Kelly shook her head. "I say we get out of the city and get back home. IAD are looking into the irregularities at the 7th Precinct, and I think Bri needs to get away." She saw the expression that crossed Tiffany's face. "What is it?"

"Tiffany shrugged. "And that's the only reason we're leaving?"

"What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath. "I saw you, in the diner ... with Gage." She raised her hands. "I wasn't following you. I just happened to be in there when you came in with him."

"Kelly?" The question came from Kris.

"He was there in the hospital," Kelly admitted. "I didn't tell you about it, because I didn't think that it was important." She glanced around at her two friends. "He was just checking up on Sabrina. That's all."

Kris frowned. "I don't think it's as simple as that," she disagreed. "If Gage was there, then there was something in it for him."

"Ok, Ok," Kelly conceded. "He warned me that Rickard was more than likely on the lookout for Sabrina. He advised me that we should all get out of the city as soon as possible."

Tiffany raised an eyebrow. "He threatened you?"

"No. He was too subtle for that," Kelly told her. "But I happen to agree with him. I think that the longer Bri stays in the city, the more likely she is to run into more trouble. Rickard might have lost his power base, but there's still a chance that there are people in this city who'll remain loyal to him."

Kris slumped back in her chair. "So what have we actually managed to achieve here?"

Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "We've discovered that no matter how many layers you pull back, there are still more you'll never get to. I guess we have to accept that we can't wrap up everything into nice little bundles and file them away." She exchanged a glance with Kris. "I hope Helena's father has at least got a little closure."

"I think it'll probably help him a little to know that Helena wasn't involved in the drugs scene,"

"I wonder just how much information Gage took from the envelope that Sabrina left for us?" Kelly mused. "When we met him at Penn Station he admitted that he'd taken some of the material that related to him."

"I just wonder what could have been achieved with that information if Sabrina hadn't sold it to Gage?" Tiffany asked quietly. She raised her hands as she saw the look that Kelly shot her. "I appreciate that she didn't feel as though she had any other options left, but I have to ask the question. As you say, you don't know what Gage has taken, and Sabrina isn't exactly being very forthcoming."

"I don't know if she'll ever want to talk about what happened," Kelly admitted.

"And that's something that could prove to be a problem..." Tiffany waited to see if Kelly was going to raise an objection before she carried on. "...If she doesn't talk about what happened, then I'm not sure that she's ever going to truly be able to leave the experience behind." She paused again, trying to order her thoughts. "The way things stand there are now only two people who have any real degree of understanding of what happened to Sabrina during the past eighteen months... and one of those people is Rickard. I think he's always going to be a threat unless you can persuade Sabrina to let you in."

Kelly let out a long breath and rubbed at her eyes. "You have a point." She fell silent, stopping short of telling the others about the conversation she'd had with Sabrina at the hospital. It was personal, she told herself; the others didn't need to know about the level of guilt that Sabrina was currently carrying around. There was something else as well. Gage's words came unbidden to her mind and, try as she might, she couldn't shift them entirely She wanted to convince herself that Bri hadn't shot Lewis in cold blood, but there was a nagging voice at the back of her mind; one that reminded her that Sabrina had so far refused to discuss the incident with them, one that reminded her that she certainly had motivation and cause. She shook her head – it just wasn't in her friend's make up to do something like that… was it?

"Kelly?" She turned her head at Kris' concerned tone, and forced a smile onto her face.

"Ignore me," she tried to persuade her friend. "I'm just thinking about Sabrina and what she's going to do next." She looked between the other two girls. "I can't see her wanting to come back to work... at least not for quite awhile."

"I'm not even sure that she's ready to travel back with us," Kris admitted.

"Which reminds me," Kelly delved into her purse and pulled out two ticket wallets. "I can only find two return tickets. We're going to have to get another if we're going to persuade Bri to come back with us, and if we can't find the missing one then that'll need replacing as well."

"Ahh... That's something else we need to talk about. There's no need for a fourth ticket," Tiffany told them quietly. "I gave my ticket to Sabrina. I'm not coming with you."

"What!"

"Please, listen to me. I've thought it through and I want to stay here. There's so much to do. My home is only a stone's throw from here, and if Rickard's on the move, I want to do everything I can to make sure that he doesn't choose Boston as his new home." She looked at the expression on the faces of her two friends. "Sabrina needs your help; I don't have much I can add there. I may only be gone a few months, but I want to stay back here ... see if there's any good I can do."

"Kelly!" Kris looked towards her friend, willing her to come up with a reason why Tiffany had to stay.

"I've made up my mind," Tiffany explained before Kelly could answer. "Think of it as a sabbatical. I'm not saying that I'm leaving forever... I just need to make sure that Rickard's not going to set up home in Boston." She looked at Kris' crestfallen face. "You can come and visit any time that you like. I'm sure Charlie won't have any problem getting you back up to full angel strength." She smiled in Kelly's direction. "I understand why you want to get as far away from here as possible. I just want to make sure that Mr Gage realises that he can't have everything his own way. I've got some good connections with the local police now. I want to try and make at least a little dent in Mr Gage's world before he has a chance to completely settle."

Kelly nodded her understanding. "There is a lot that still needs clearing up," she admitted. "Just don't forget where we are huh?"

Tiffany's smile was wide. "No problem. I'm not saying that this is forever. I just feel as though it's something I need to do..." She paused. "So if Sabrina ever does feel like talking, and wants to talk to an outsider... give her my number."

Kelly smiled. "Of course... You know it's not going to be the same without you."

"You'll be fine." She nodded towards the phone, eager to move the situation along before she became tempted to change her mind. "Shouldn't we break the news to Charlie?"

Kelly stared at her friend for a few moments. She wanted nothing more than to try and talk Tiffany out of her decision, but she thought back over the events of the past few weeks. Just what good had her meddling and insistence at getting involved in Sabrina's life actually done? Sometimes you just had to listen to others and accept that they were right.

She reached out and pulled her friend into a hug. "I'm going to miss you," she told her honestly.

Moments later she felt Kris join the hug. Charlie could wait for a few more moments. There were times when friendship was far more important than anything.

* * *

Kris looked nervously at Kelly as the pair of them made their way along the corridor towards Sabrina's room. It was, they had decided, time to bring Sabrina home.

"You think she'll be ready to come with us?"

Kelly nodded. "With the two of us to look after her, I don't see that there will be a problem. I think she needs to get away."

Kris pushed open the door to the room and stared in disbelief at the empty bed. The sheets had been stripped and there was nothing there to indicate that a patient was expected back.

"What's going on?"

Kelly stood at her friend's shoulder. "She's already gone," she realised sadly, shaking her head. "I didn't think she'd have the strength to travel under her own steam."

"Miss Garrett?"

Kelly turned as she heard her name called and found Elise, the nurse who had been looking after Sabrina, beckoning her over.

Forcing a smile onto her face she walked towards her, hoping that whatever she wanted wouldn't take long. She really didn't feel in the mood for a long conversation.

Elise searched on her desk for a moment or two before picking up a plain white envelope and offering it to her. "She said you'd be coming, and that it was important that you get this."

Exchanging a glance with Kris, Kelly reached forward and accepted the envelope. Sliding a finger under one edge, she ripped it open and looked at the contents within. Aside from a battered looking travel wallet there was a single sheet of white paper.

"This is getting to be frustrating," Kris muttered. "She's gone, hasn't she? She's run from us again."

Kelly unfolded the sheet of paper and scanned through it. "Yep. She says that she just needs to get her head together, and that she needs a little time to herself."

Kris swore softly beneath her breath. "I was hoping that she'd let us help her," she admitted.

"She'll be alright," Elise told her softly. "It's never an easy road back to health, but I'm sure your friend will be fine. You just need to give her time... and a little space."

Kelly glanced back towards the closed door and let out a sigh. "I'm not so sure," she admitted. "You didn't see what she was like." Kelly rubbed a hand across her eyes trying to put her thoughts into words. "That person ... in there... in that room...I don't know... underneath the bruises she looks the same, but inside... I..." she broke off not wanting to complete the thought; as though somehow not giving it voice would make it go away.

"Life is all about change," Elise told her, taking a step closer. "We all change. Everything we do changes us in some way, but most of that is only surface change. Dig down and you'll find that person again." She saw the look of doubt that crossed the faces of the two women in front of her. "Even in the last two days there has been a change in your friend. She's settled down a lot," Elise tried to reassure them. "You should have seen the fuss she made when she first regained consciousness. She kept removing the I.V line and fought like anything when someone tried to put it back in. It was as though she thought we were going to hurt her."

"Did she know what it was?" Kelly immediately asked.

Elise shook her head. "With the state of disorientation she was in ... She couldn't identify where she was, let alone the contents of a hypodermic syringe, but she was adamant that she didn't want it..." Elise tailed off as she realised what Kelly had asked. "Has something been worrying you?"

Kelly nodded and turned to look at Kris. "I've been worried," she confessed. "...worried that maybe Bri had gone under during her time in the city, but...I'm hoping ..." she tailed off, hoping that her joining of the dots wasn't too simplistic.

Elise stepped in and reassured her. "There were no obvious signs of long term or regular substance abuse if that's your concern. If there had been then we would have done much more to ensure that Ms Duncan stayed here and received help." She smiled at the two of them. "Your friend will be fine. I got the distinct impression that there's the requisite strength of character to ensure that she walks away from drugs in the future."

Kelly smiled and thanked the nurse for all her help. She took the envelope from her and turned away from the nurse's station, placing an arm around her friend's shoulder. "We just need to give her a little time. She'll be back; she just needs to work through the things that she saw here first."

Kris sighed. "I know you're right. It just feels a little weird that's all. I feel as though we've let her down in some way."

Kelly shook her head. "We did no such thing. She's just got a lot on her mind at the moment." She squeezed her friend's shoulder. "She'll be back. But until then it looks as though it's going to be just the two of us and Bosley for a while... Are you ok with that?"

Kris smiled softly. "After the events of the past few weeks, I don't think that there's anything we can't work through." She shrugged. "Perhaps what we need is a little time to ourselves."

* * *

Sabrina sat in the cab and stared out of the window at the skyscrapers as they flashed past. She couldn't wait to get out of the city. The place held nothing but painful memories. Tiffany had tried to tell her that it was time to let go of Mary Thomas, to try and start to put everything that had happened behind her, and to concentrate on getting back to being Sabrina Duncan. She had made it all sound so easy, but Sabrina wasn't convinced that she knew where Mary Thomas ended and Sabrina Duncan began. She'd been Mary for so long that she wasn't entirely certain that she could let her go, wasn't sure that she would be comfortable going back to her previous life, knowing what she did now.

She ran her thumb over the crook of her arm where the two small needle scars were still visible. They were minute marks, but to her they were a very visible reminder of what had happened. The doctors had told her that she was clean; that the drugs were out of her system. One of them had even told her that she was lucky that there had only been two injections. She wasn't proud of her reaction to the comment, but the one thing she didn't feel about the whole experience was lucky. She'd seen a lot of drug use first hand in the past eighteen months; she had seen what it could do to people; had seen the way that it could systematically destroy a person's life. She was now a step closer to that – it was a fact that she had to face. She'd crossed the line – albeit unwillingly – and she would now be arbitrarily grouped with other users as someone who was likely to reoffend.

The doctors had agreed that it would be best for her to go home; to go back to a place where the surroundings were more familiar, and the memories not so bleak. Again, Sabrina wasn't convinced by the plan. She had a lot to work through, and the one thing she didn't want to do was to associate places she loved with the feelings she was currently trying to work through.

A part of her felt guilty about the way she was going about things. Kelly, Kris ... hell even Tiffany had tried to help her; had tried to be there for her, but for reasons that she just couldn't explain, she hadn't felt comfortable talking to them. She reasoned that she was better off trying to sort things out for herself. That was why she was heading to the airport alone, unannounced. Charlie had wired her some money and she was going to get away properly. She didn't know yet where she was going, but she wasn't running away. She was just going somewhere where she could think; could work through things and then be in a better position to talk with the others. That's what she kept telling herself. She'd repeated the line so many times that she was almost starting to believe it.

Maybe she'd travel; make contact with Jill. Throw herself into something that was completely unconnected to the work that she'd been doing all her working life. A change was definitely something that was needed.

She knew that Kelly blamed herself for the way that things had unravelled. It hadn't been her fault; when she was feeling a little more like herself then she'd try and smooth things over with her friend. Every day she had stayed in the city she'd risked Rickard working out who she really was. It could have happened at any time; she certainly wasn't going to hold a grudge against her friend.

"Traffic looks pretty heavy up ahead ma'am," the driver's gruff voice broke across her thoughts. "You in a big rush to catch your flight?"

Sabrina waved the concern away. "I've got plenty of time," she assured him; hoping that the answer would be enough to prevent him asking her further questions. He'd tried to strike up a conversation at the start of the journey, and she'd politely ignored him. He didn't however seem able to take the hint.

"You getting away for a few weeks ma'am? Now's a good time to go. They're saying that there's heavy snowfall on the way."

Sabrina saw him tilt his head, glancing at her in the rear view mirror. If the way that she'd gingerly climbed into the back of the cab hadn't been enough of an indication of her frailty, then the rainbow of bruising on her face was enough to tell him that she'd been in an accident at the very least. He had done his best not to say anything, but she knew that he was working his way round to asking her outright about it. She balled her hands into fists; she wasn't certain that she was ready to face those sorts of questions.

"Ma'am?" he pushed his search for an answer a little further. "You going to miss the city?"

"Yes," she told him honestly. "I don't think it's likely I'll be coming back."

She let herself sink back into her seat and closed her eyes, not caring about the reaction that her answer might cause. She couldn't come back to New York again... Gage would have her killed if she did; of that she was certain. Kelly hadn't elaborated on it, but Sabrina was certain that Gage was somehow responsible for the police dropping the investigation against her. With Rickard out of the picture; Gage was the only one with the necessary influence. She hated the fact that she was indebted to him, but there was no escaping the reality of the situation.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper that Tiffany had placed inside the travel wallet. She wasn't sure why she'd kept it. In perfect handwriting was written the address of a motel. She turned it over in her hands. Maybe she'd been running for too long. Maybe it was time to stop. For the first time in what felt like an age she allowed herself to think back to what life had been like before. Tiffany's words ran through her mind; just what had happened to her friends whilst she'd been away? She'd not really had the time to sit and consider the matter. They'd done everything they could to be there for her ... wasn't it about time she returned the favour?

"Driver," she called out as she made a snap decision. "We've got to swing by an address. There are some people I need to pick up."

* * *

"They've left sir," the voice on the end of the phone informed him. "Miss Duncan...She left earlier, I'm not sure exactly where...I told her that she wasn't fit enough to leave on her own but she was adamant."

"It's no matter," his voice cut across hers. "I've got someone keeping a very close eye on Miss Duncan. I'm more than aware of her present location." He paused. "But we are getting away from the matter in hand. You are satisfied that her friends are heading out of town?"

"Oh yes sir. They told me themselves."

"Thank you Elise." Rickard replaced the phone in its cradle and sat back in his chair. It would take some time before he'd be able to re-establish himself in New York, but in the meantime there were other states and other cities. Whilst he was biding his time, there was no harm in keeping a close eye on the activities of others. He still had a score to settle with Sabrina Duncan... and her two friends. One day... one day he was going to get the opportunity to settle that score once and for all.


End file.
